


Tooth Fairy

by Magifox



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Mild Blood, Teeth, violence warning in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magifox/pseuds/Magifox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A miserable little girl has been plagued by bad luck, a bully and a terrible reoccurring nightmare. Not to mention, two loose baby teeth. Luckily, someone’s been keeping an eye on her. Hint: it’s not the Tooth Fairy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Jeez, this has been in the making on and off for 2 months! Figured it was time to write something for Gravity Falls while the hiatus is going on. And of course it features everyone’s favorite Illuminati Dorito demon. How appropriate for my induction into the fic archives of this fandom.
> 
> I don't own the characters or concepts of Gravity Falls. All properties belong to Alex Hirsch and Disney.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Beatrice Holloway. Her seven (and three quarter) year old life is about to take a turn for the worse with a stroke of bad luck and becoming the object of ridicule to a schoolyard bully. Also, two loose baby teeth.

Beatrice Holloway was having a very bad week.

Well, worse than usual for a seven (and three quarter) year old. 

She was generally a happy child her age, sporting wavy shoulder-length dark brown hair (which was usually a fuss to brush) and green eyes. Her tan face was peppered with splotchy freckles, mostly on her nose and her cheeks which gave off the appearance of permanent pigmented blush (she was used to being teased about it from her classmates and family, but she wished they’d stop because it was getting really old). She liked playing around with her small group of friends, going to elementary school every day, playing with her toys at home and learning to read with her mother every night (she liked that the most).

She loved to read. She was convinced that when she got older that she wanted to write her own stories and get them published into a popular book series, like Beatrix Potter and J.K. Rowling.

But this week was not the same for her as usual.

Her mother, Julia, was coming home late every night from her hospital secretary job, which got her babysitter, Emma, to take charge of the bedtime reading.

Beatrice didn’t mind Emma. Actually, she thought she was a very cool babysitter…for a 16 year old. She had super short bleach blonde hair and wore thick black glasses over her grey eyes, and was usually dressed in tight acid wash jeans and t-shirts with various band logos that Beatrice wasn’t familiar with because she was too young. She would sometimes bring along a movie for the two to watch after dinner or bake cookies (Beatrice adored her ginger snaps). She even helped her with her homework from time to time.

Yes, Emma was good with most things, but it was the way she  _read_  the books. It felt boring, somewhat unengaging from the whimsical tales. She didn’t do any of the voices like her mother did, which Beatrice always liked because it helped her with her imagination when conjuring up the characters. Like when she was reading a passage from _Redwall_ , Emma didn’t put on a surly British accent for Cluny the Scourge when he made his grand entrance into the Abbey or try to get the mole language all garbled up.

Aside from the dull bedtime reading, earlier that week, she had brought over for show and tell a fossil that her father sent her as an early birthday present from his latest archaeological dig in South America. She was excited to show off her tiny fossil a perfectly preserved imprint of a fern, which got a few ‘oohs’ from her second grade classmates. Unfortunately, she lost it after school when she went to get it out of her backpack. That had set her into a very miserable mood for the rest of the evening, and not even her favorite meal of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes could cheer her up. In fact, it made her feel  _worse_.

Mid-week in gym class, she was picked on during the dodgeball game, mainly by the boys because she wasn’t really the most athletic of the bunch (she had sight asthma) and she wasn’t very good at the dodging part. One of the balls had accidentally hit her on the mouth, and she spent half of her lunch break juggling an ice pack on her jaw while attempting to eat her sandwich. Jimmy Green, the boy who threw the ball at her, traded his two packs of Fruit Gushers for her Rice Krispies treat as a form of apology. Though for the rest of the week, they were both teased by their peers for being in love and they didn’t speak to each other after that day.

Then on Friday, she was reminded by her mother about being invited to Laura May’s birthday party.

Laura May Benson was probably the most well-known girl in her grade because her dad worked in a toy factory, so she would always get the hottest toys first before they came onto store shelves a few months later. As a side effect, she was pretty spoiled. She spoke out of turn in class, boasting about what the next Barbie doll fashion collection was going to be or which new collectible stuffed animal was coming out to her little clique of friends, and even glared at kids who brought their own toys to try and best her. She would always be dressed in fairy princess dresses and multicolored ballerina tutus and none of the teachers would bat an eyelash, whereas Beatrice had once brought vampire fangs to school a few days before Halloween but were confiscated.

If she had it her way, Beatrice would have stayed home that Saturday afternoon and watched movies or go check out some new books at the local library. She was only going to the party because her two best friends, Sara O’Neil and Hannah Cooper, were invited.

Sara was a tall, skinny twig of a girl with short ginger hair and brown eyes, who was usually the one who would know about the latest rumor or news on the playground. She wanted to be a journalist when she grew up, so she could go and travel the world. She could also be quite the chatterbox when she wanted to be.

Hannah had long strawberry blonde hair, which was normally sported into braided pigtails, and grey blue eyes. She was of average height but a bit on the pudgy side, though she really loved P.E., and she was probably the only girl that Beatrice knew who read comic books (‘real’ comic books like Batman and Wonder Woman, unlike grocery store spacers like Archie or the newspaper’s comics page), mostly because her older brother was a big comic book geek and would read them with her. 

 

All three of them agreed that they were going to enjoy themselves the best as they could without being bogged down by the fact that it was Laura May’s birthday. She would have to behave herself at her own house after all, and there were rumors of a magician, an ice cream cake and a bouncy inflatable castle at the party. Maybe that would be distracting enough from watching the spoiled girl turn her nose up at her ‘mediocre’ presents. 

▲▲▲

Saturday came and it rained.

A lot.

No bouncy castle was going to be set up outside when it was pouring rain in early April.

The party was instead moved inside of Laura May’s house, which was twice as spacious as Beatrice’s small condo. When she was greeted at the door, Beatrice saw Laura May was wearing a powder blue and white ruffled dress with short puffy sleeves and donning a plastic silver tiara. Her long blonde hair had been nicely pulled back into a braid, and weaved with various colored plastic flowers and ribbons. Obviously, she was trying to channel three Disney princesses at once, but it made her look more like an over accessorized Barbie doll when you had included all the jelly bracelets and bubblegum pink nail polish.

Beatrice suddenly felt underdressed with her washed out jeans and stretched out turquoise and white striped sweater when she stepped inside. (Beatrice’s mother made a steady salary, but child support could go so far around bills and rent payments around a single mother and her only child, so sometimes it was hard for Beatrice to understand when she had to wear second hand clothing or she couldn’t get the latest new book or go see the newest movies all the time.)

“Oh, I had forgotten I invited you,” Laura May said dryly.

Beatrice tried her best to smile, even though she was just ready to walk out the door and back into her mother’s car.

“Um…happy birthday!” she said, handing over a small holographic greenish blue bag to Laura May.

The costumed girl gingerly took it and for a moment paused, weighing the gift in her hand before she pursed her lips. “Thanks.”

Beatrice instantly knew that Laura May didn’t seem too happy about her gift… and she hadn’t even opened it yet! It was a last minute decision, but Beatrice had convinced her mom to purchase the first three volumes of a popular horseback riding book series, instead of a large stuffed unicorn doll. After all, the girl had enough toys already. Sure, the gift was small, but it was the thought that counts, right?

Laura May begrudgingly handed Beatrice a Disney princess themed party hat and walked away to dump the bag on the gift table and then went back to join the other ten girls were all clustered together into the living room. Beatrice immediately avoided mingling with the party guests and headed straight for the snack table, piling handfuls of chips, vegetables and other snack foods and candy onto a paper plate. It was when she spotted Sara and Hannah arriving about fifteen minutes later (oddly enough, the two were next door neighbors), did she feel more content in joining the festivities.

For the next hour, she waited in anticipation for the magician to arrive while enduring basic party games like pin the tail on the donkey and truth or dare (she did land a hard whack at the piñata, grinning proudly when she saw the rainbow horse’s cardboard neck half caved in, much to Laura May’s dismay).

Beatrice recently found out that she really liked magic tricks. She remembered reading through a beginner’s guide to magic from the library a few months ago and tried to perform the rabbit out the hat trick before she found out she actually didn’t own a big enough hat or a rabbit. However, she was getting better at the cup and hidden ball trick. She had been practicing.

Then the crushing blow happened. Instead of a magician showing up to the party an hour later, it was a clown.

Apparently, the magician had fallen ill a few days before and so the party agency sent a clown instead. Beatrice had been a little bit uneasy about clowns ever since she went to the circus with her dad when she was 5. Something about the makeup scared her.

This clown was dressed in a shiny rainbow suit and donned an orange afro wig. His makeup, however, looked like it his own face was starting to melt off, probably because of the torrential downpour that had begun to strengthen outside. And something smelled weird about him. Beatrice couldn’t pin it, but it made her faintly sick.

Still, she wasn’t going to let her fun stop because these mishaps. There was still cake to eat and presents to be opened.

The clown, who was named Larry, hobbled inside and went on with his performance: some balloon animals, some juggling, mostly all typical stuff to see from a clown. Then he pulled out a top hat and a magic wand from the suitcase. Beatrice let her doubts leave her the second when she saw a cape being draped around Larry’s neck. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Larry set up a fold out table and a tablecloth and started his magic routine. It was all pretty basic stuff like scarves hidden in sleeves, flowers turning into a rather dusty feather duster (making Beatrice sneeze a little too much), and magic interlinking rings (she read about that one. She was hoping for a magic set when her birthday came along next month).

Then he set the top hat on the now covered table, announcing for his next trick he would pull a rabbit out of a hat and he would need a volunteer. Laura May was the obvious choice, but she brushed off the offer, saying she didn’t want to touch a ‘smelly old rabbit’. She was most likely wanting to just dig into the presents.

Some of the other girls put their hands up, but Beatrice was quicker, and Larry pointed to her. She happily rushed to the front, even giving a little awkward bow when Larry cheered her on for being so helpful. The clown told her to tap the hat with the wand while he would reach in and find the rabbit, adding the ‘magic words’ on the count of three.

Beatrice tapped the hat three times for show, adding an ‘Abracadabra!’. On cue, Larry reached in and shuffled his hand around in the hat. His face suddenly fell into puzzlement as he dug his arm in more.

“Huh, that’s funny,” he muttered. “Max is usually a bit friskier than this.”

Beatrice offered to try and help him out, thinking that he couldn’t feel with his gloves on and reached her little arm inside the hat. She smiled when she felt the soft velvety touch of the rabbit’s fur and gently grabbed it under its stomach.

Then she paused. Something felt very wrong. The rabbit should have been moving, right? She thought maybe it was a stuffed animal that  _felt_  like a real rabbit. A less cruel alternative for the show, but it was cool to the touch.

And then the smell hit her as she pulled it out: the stench of ammonia and wet fur. It made her stomach flip. Beatrice gasped in horror as her eyes made contact with the rabbit’s wide, bulging glassy red ones and noticed that its white body was hanging limp and lifeless in her hand like a rag doll.

She opened her mouth and let out a loud scream, immediately dropping the now confirmed dead rabbit onto the living room floor with a limp ‘thud’. The party erupted into an equally piercing scream as the thirteen other girls scrambled away from the dead animal and were sent crying into the next room with Mrs. Benson madly dashing right behind them to an attempt to calm them down.

Beatrice panicked and ran in the opposite direction, making her way to the bathroom, still screaming at the top of her lungs, before she slipped on the glossy hardwood flood, fell down the short fleet of stairs and landed flat on her face. The scream rose into a painful cry, suddenly tasting blood in her mouth.

Worst yet, her bottom jaw didn’t feel right. Not only was it sore, but something felt loose…

▲▲▲

The party had gone sour after that with both parents were in an uproar about the situation, calling animal control to remove the dead rabbit from their home and the local party agency in attempts to get a full refund. Laura May and the other guests stayed in the TV room, too shaken up to come out.

It turned out that Max had been a very old rabbit (about ten years old), personally owned by Larry himself, and it appeared that the rabbit didn’t make the journey to the party. Larry claimed that Max was feeling fine that morning, a little slower than usual, but still kicking.

The Bensons did their best to patch up Beatrice after her little tumble downstairs, but she was now sporting a couple of bruises on her chin, her left cheek, knees and elbows. Her hands were also red, after being forced to scrub her hands in almost scalding hot water, then disinfected twice with alcohol and hydrogen peroxide in an attempt to remove any trace of disease or bacteria from the dead animal (plus, Mrs. Benson was a little bit of a germaphobe). She had to wear yellow rubber gloves and stay in the living room until she was picked up by her mother half an hour later, which made things more unbearable when Julia exploded at Mrs. Benson at how asinine her attempts were at ‘taking precautions’ with her daughter (she held herself back because there were children in the room, but she chewed her out later over the phone).

It took almost three hours, along with a long (tepid) bubble bath and couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, before Beatrice was feeling a lot calmer and safer now that she was at home.

It was around seven o’clock in the evening when they received a phone call from Larry the clown. He deeply apologized again to both Julia and Beatrice, even attempting to compliment on how brave Beatrice was to even touch the rabbit and not throw up (though that stab at a joke got Julia fuming). He quickly went on about how Max and him were partners and now he was sad that he was gone. Beatrice, while she was still shaking from the aftershock, kindly reassured Larry that Max was probably in a better place now and probably thought it was best to get a new rabbit when he was ready to move on.

After she hung up, Julia hugged her daughter tightly. “That was a very grown up thing to say, Bee.”

“I’m still really scared, mommy,” Beatrice murmured, burying her face in her mother’s royal blue silk housecoat.

Julia stroked her daughter’s hair. “I know. I know. Hey, why don’t we read for a little bit to take your mind off things?” She smiled. “I’ll even do the voices.” 

“Not  _Redwall_ ,” Beatrice quietly moaned, vigorously shaking her head. “ _Redwall_  has rabbits in it.”

“Alright. How about  _Stewart Little_  instead?”

▲▲▲

When she thought the worst was behind her, the following week was even worse for Beatrice when she arrived back at school on Tuesday (she stayed home Monday because she was still recovering).

Not only was she being teased at school for what happened at the party, but Laura May especially dished out some awful things, blaming her for ruining her birthday party and calling her “dead girl” and “road kill queen”. She even claimed that her parents were suing Larry for causing ‘traumatic disorders’ to their child, which horrified Beatrice immensely since he had been so kind and understanding over the phone.

Sara and Hannah were a little frightened to be around Beatrice, as Laura May was passing a rumor around that Beatrice secretly had rabies from touching the dead rabbit so she was contagious (though their teacher told them outright that if she had rabies, she would have been at home. Either case, Beatrice had gone to the doctor that past Sunday to get a shot just to be on the safe side.)

She was picked last on the soccer team during gym class, which did happen the odd time, but this time it was intentional. She had never felt so alienated before. So hurt. To the point where she spent most of her recesses and lunchtimes huddled in the girl’s bathroom because she didn’t want anyone to see her cry.

She eventually broke down and told her mother about it, but there wasn’t much she could do but say to ‘just ignore them’ and reassure her that the teasing would pass. The normal and typical parent response.

Even when Emma came by to babysit later that week, the chocolate chip cookies she brought weren’t enough to cheer Beatrice up. Emma finally spoke up after dinner when she noticed the girl’s plate still had a good sized portion of macaroni and cheese on it.

“Alright, Bee, what’s wrong?” she asked with a sigh, pulling up a chair to sit beside the seven year old. The babysitter’s usual bleach blonde hair had been recently dyed electric blue, which would have been more exciting if Beatrice wasn’t feeling so miserable.

“Nothing,” Beatrice mumbled, shifting her eyes away from her and took a small sip of milk from her glass.

“Nothing? When I see you haven’t finished up a bowl of my special mac and cheese, then it’s either that you’re not feeling well or something is on your mind.” She ruffled the girl’s hair. “Come on, spill. It’s just us girls.”

Beatrice hesitated before she swallowed. “Well, a lot of people have been bugging me at school.”

“Teasing you? Calling you names?” Emma paused.

Beatrice nodded, sniffing back a sob. “There’s this girl named Laura May and blames me for ruining her birthday party.”

“Your mom mentioned about it. Sorry about that.”

“Well, she won’t leave me alone!” Beatrice snapped. “She calls me ‘roadkill queen’ and she even put a rabbit head in my desk today….not a real one. A plush one. It still scared me a lot though.”

“I don’t blame you,” Emma said softly. “You know, something like that happened to me when I was your age. Kids teased me because I had an imaginary friend until I was eight. It was pretty bad.”

“What did you do?”

Emma bit her lip. “Well, I did talk to some of my teachers about it, but they didn’t really do much help outside the classroom. I tried to ignore them, until a boy decided to throw a rock at me. So, I got real angry and I kicked him in the di-” She coughed. “Um,  _nuts_  and he went down top heavy. I got suspended for a couple of days, but I got some of my anger out of my system. It’s never good to have that much negative energy bottled up. That’s when my folks signed me up for karate class.”

Beatrice was suddenly intrigued by her babysitter’s rebellious story, leaning closer. “Did you kick their butts?”

Emma scratched the back of her head. “Well, the boys were pretty scared of me for a week, but no. It wasn’t right what I did, but I learned in that situation, you could protect yourself. Karate helped me learn how to control my anger. It took a while, but I learned to block out their taunting and put it into a more creative outlook.”

“Like what?”

“Sometimes when I get angry and I’m not at karate class, I like to take a pillow and punch the fluff out if it. Meditation helps too.” Emma smiled. “Hey, why don’t I teach you how to meditate? Deal is that you have to eat everything on your plate before we do that, ‘kay?”

For the first time in a week, Beatrice seemingly cracked a smile. “Okay.”

She scooped up some macaroni and cheese, but let out a yawn before she was able to bring the spoon to her mouth. Emma suddenly noticed the dark circles around the girl’s eyes as she rubbed them.

“Not sleeping well either?” she mused.

“Nightmares,” Beatrice mumbled, chewing a spoonful of cheesy pasta. “I think it’s the same one, but I don’t know.”

“What can you remember?” Emma asked, suddenly curious.

“I just remember running, and then this big monster with big teeth and scary eyes comes after me and tries to eat me, but I wake up before it does.”

Emma coughed. “Oh. Well, maybe it’s all this teasing that’s causing this monster to pop up, hmm? Once you do some meditation, it will all go away. Hey, maybe next time, you’ll dream about going through a wardrobe and wind up in Narnia.”

Beatrice blinked. “What’s Narnia?”

Emma face lit up. “You haven’t read-? Oh, you’ll love it! It’s one of my faves. I’ll bring the movie over next time too and -”

_“Ow!”_

Emma’s babysitter warning mode activated when she saw Beatrice brought her napkin to her mouth.

“You okay, Bee?”

“My teeth hurt again.” Beatrice winced as she poked the bottom of her jaw. Her two front bottom teeth wobbled under her finger.

“Woah, two baby teeth at the same time?” Emma exclaimed, playfully slapping Beatrice’s shoulder. “That’s big cash from the Tooth Fairy!”

Beatrice pouted. “I don’t care about the money. I just want them out  _now_. They’re driving me crazy!” She made a grab for them again, before Emma pulled the girl’s hand away from her mouth. 

“Don’t try and force it,” she warned. “Trust me on this. My big brother tried the whole ‘string to the door’ trick on me once, and I got a nasty bump on the head instead. I tried yanking a few of them out myself and that  _really_  hurt. When they get really loose, they’ll fall out on their own. I still remember when lost my first one…” She pointed to her top front tooth. “I went apple picking with school in first grade. I freaked out when I saw blood and almost swallowed my first baby tooth if I didn’t spit out my apple!”

Beatrice laughed. “That would have been  _really_  bad!”

“Yeah, no kidding. I almost didn’t get two dollars under my pillow the next morning.” She playfully tapped at the girl’s arm. “But enough storytelling. Finish eating and then we can practice in the living room. We’ll do the dishes later.”

Despite the pain in her mouth, Beatrice wolfed down the rest of her meal and rushed into the living room, grabbing all the pillows she could find and then some from upstairs. It took a while to really settle herself down and also not make any noise, while Emma instructed her breathing. Eventually, Beatrice discovered that meditation was surprisingly fun and, more importantly, it was relaxing. She felt much better half an hour later, feeling less stressed out. Emma offered to help her practice some more the next time she came over, and then suggested to do some quiet things instead of watching TV before bed, so she would feel less stimulated.

Beatrice decided after doing her school reading and taking her bath that she should meditate before went to sleep. That was simple and quiet, right? She laid back on her bed, covers pulled over her and the lights shut off. She closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply, letting her mind clear and to just focus on just relaxing. Finding her center…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice may get more than she bargained for when she is introduced to a certain dream demon...

She was running again.

Beatrice had been in the local park reading a library book under a tree, when she felt stinking hot breath hitting the back of her neck. It didn’t take long for her to react. She dropped her book and sprinted across the meadow from the massive feral beast whom she never looked back at, dare she slow down. The ground shook with every thundering leap it took, and Beatrice screamed when she felt its teeth nipping close at her heels.

The woods. She could lose it in the woods. It would be too big to get through. She pushed herself to run faster into the forest, kicking old leaves up from the path as she weaved through the clusters of narrow trees.

The beast roared something between a slobbering growl and a guttural screech while its body collided through the trees. The dry splintering sounds of wood cracked about half a mile behind her like distant thunder.

 _Don’t stop, don’t stop,_ she kept repeating to herself. _Need to hide. It will go away if I hide._

She came across an enormous old oak just a few feet from her, with a large gap at the bottom of its trunk, possibly wide enough for her to climb through. She made a mad dash for it, her little chest heaving for air. The beast was gaining on her, crashing through the wood at an unstoppable force and unleashing another wild snarl.

Beatrice leaped at the oak and slid inside. It was dark aside from the small crack of light peeking from outside. She attempted flatten herself against the side so the beast couldn’t see her directly through her hiding spot. The roaring grew louder as the beast bounded by the tree and stopped, shuffling around through the leaves and underbrush. She desperately tried to hold her breath, despite her heart currently beating like a wild bird trapped in a cage.

_Go away. Go away. Go away._

The roars suddenly grew faint and a moment later, she heard the beast’s footsteps bound by the tree and deeper into the forest.

When the noise was gone, Beatrice let out a long sigh of relief and slid down to the ground, her little body trembling from fright. 

Without warning, the beast’s head barged into the hole, snapping its foaming jaws at the little girl. Beatrice shrieked, scuttling back to the far end of the tree, pressing her body as thin as she could to avoid being bitten. She could hear scratching from the other side, and the hole began to split upwards. New cracks of light flooded into the wooden cave.

The monster was a large rabbit with bulging blood red eyes, never blinking and flashing a haunting bloodlust filled glow. Its overlong yellow-orange incisor-like teeth snapped at the air as flecks of hot white foam dripped from its red stained lips. Its white and black diseased speckled fur was the consistancy of wet paint and tar, dripping onto the forrest floor in a oozing, bubbling mess. The suffocating smell was something like rotting garbage and wet dog fur. It wedged a misshapen clawed paw through the widening hole, swiping at Beatrice’s sweater but missing by a hanging thread.

 _ **“Dead girl. Dead girl,”**_ it gargled through another raspy growl.

Beatrice screamed, cupping her ears to block out the horrible sound. “Go away! _Leave me alone!_ ”

Then she fell.

Not falling down through the ground, but falling backwards through the _tree_ as she saw the whole world around her gradually fade into gray. The taunts of the rabbit creature slowed down and faded away into nothingness.

Warm air gently embraced her as she could feel herself slowly drifting backwards now in a monochrome void. Her mind was unexpectedly feeling sharper than before, like being shaken awake from the haze of slumber. She blinked, wiping away her frightened tears, feeling a sense of weightlessness fluttering in her stomach while she gradually floated in place.

_Where… am I?_

She looked down at herself and realized now she was barefoot and wearing her long sleeved flannel blue pajamas instead of…what _was_ she wearing before? A sweater, jeans and…? It was oddly foggy in her mind.

A white light unexpectedly opened up in front of her, breaking through the grey matter like a flash of lightning on a stretch of dark storm clouds. She squinted, trying to shield her eyes as the light got larger, almost the size of a doggie door and stretching into a shape. A high pitched cackle echoed loudly as the light got too bright for Beatrice to bear, forcing her to close her eyes. A white triangle imprinted behind her eyelids and the light subdued itself with a quick ‘pop’.

When she blinked the stars out of her eyes, she saw a golden yellow triangle, almost half the size of her, floating just a couple of feet away from where she was. Stuck in its center was tiny black bowtie and a tiny top hat was floating just at its top peak. Beatrice curiously wandered to it (being able to walk on air somehow) and poked at its bowtie.

The triangle shivered and two little stick-like arms sprouted from its sides without warning, gripping her wrist tightly. Then two equally comical-looking legs popped from its bottom base. A single large white eye opened itself up wide, budding long eyelashes and stared at her with a narrow black cat eye pupil.

The triangle thing grew in size, its sudden black tinted eye glowering at her until its now red body was almost the size of a house. Beatrice, now caught in its massive black hand, tried desperately to wiggle out of its clutches. This had to be another nightmare.

 _Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ She could see her frightened face in the reflection of the creature’s eye, determined more than ever to get away.

The triangle gave a deep rumbling cackle, sending a terrible chill up the girl’s spine. She braced herself for the worst as red hot lightning sparked dangerously close from it eye. She took one last deep breath in, screwed her eyes tight and let the loudest scream she had ever made in her whole life.

There was a loud shattering sound, like breaking glass and the red triangle creature crackled away, and Beatrice dropped to the supposed ground.

She panted wildly, her whole body trembling from the aftershock. She opened her eyes again only to still be in the grey world…wherever this place was.

“Welcome to the Mindscape!”

Beatrice yelped and scrambled away from the triangle creature, who had suddenly appeared just an inch from her nose. She watched the triangle give a hearty nasal snicker, its eye closing and curling upwards in what Beatrice could tell was glee while it held its hands to its…chest. It shrank to the size of a housecat, wiping a tear from its eye.

Despite not having a mouth, his loud sycophantic voice echoed through the air and his body lit up bright yellow every time he spoke (or laughed, which seemed to be quite a lot).

“Definitely got a healthy set of pipes on ya, kid!” the triangle creature crowed, twisting a finger near the top of its body to almost accentuate him clearing out an ear. “Ever considered an opera career?”

Beatrice only had a fraction of a second before a sudden puff of smoke cut her off and she found herself being dressed head to toe in a lady viking costume - the usual one you would see a fat woman wearing while performing Opera in a cartoon. The horned hat was much too big for her head and slid forward over her eyes. 

She growled. She had just had enough of this… _thing_. She pushed the hat upright and pointed her spear accusingly at the creature, who didn't flinch (or even blink) at the threat. 

“W-why did you scare me like that?” Beatrice snapped hotly. “T-that wasn’t very nice, you know!”

The triangle’s eye twisted into something resembling a frown as he gingerly pushed the spear tip away from him with a single finger. “I was just having a bit of fun. Lighten up. It’s not my fault that you’re a little skittish fleshy bag of nerves.”

The being snapped his fingers and Beatrice’s viking getup quickly vanished as it had appeared, much to her relief (though she was liking the spear). She opened her mouth to protest further before a terrible thought crossed her mind. 

“Are you…the Boogeyman?” she asked quietly.

The triangle snorted. “As if! Matter of fact, that loser checks under his own bed for _me_ every night! The name’s Bill. Bill Cipher.” He tipped his top hat with a flourish of one overextended arm and flipped it back into place. “Nice to finally meet you, Beatrice. Pretty fancy name for a little thing, such as yourself.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened as the demon – Bill – spoke her name. How did he know-?

“Oh, I get around,” Bill replied, tilting himself upside down. “Metaphorically, I’ve got a finger in every pie.”

With a wave of his hand, an actual pie popped out of nowhere, steam still rising from its crust. He poked a tiny finger at the top to humorously accentuate his point, breaking the crust and laughed. Beatrice could just tell by the smell it was apple pie, but she steadied herself from trying to grab a bite. After all, she didn’t know this Bill guy, and she remembered not to take offers from strange people, let alone triangular beings.

“Smart move, kid,” Bill continued, letting the pie combust into flames without blinking his eye. The trail of black smoke eerily curled into a skull-like shape before it finally dissipated into the void.

“What _are_ you?” Beatrice asked, walking around Bill curiously. Funny enough, the being was flat and he floated without any wings.

“Well, to put it plainly for your teeny brain, I’m a demon.” Turning himself upright, Bill produced a black cane from the center of his palm and leaned forward on it.

“Gotta tell you though, that little nightmare you got caged on the other side? Wow! I mean, color me impressed!” Beatrice watched as the demon’s yellow form briefly morph into a haze of colors, oddly similar to that of a mood ring, before stabilizing again. “Haven’t seen a beast like that since seventy-eight! Still know a guy who can’t stand watching that rabbit movie without wetting his pants.”

Beatrice wouldn’t say she was impressed. More like _terrified_. Even thinking about that _thing_ made her tremble and shake. And that voice calling out to her… She could have sworn it was Laura May speaking through the twisted rabbit the whole time. Before she knew it, Beatrice crumpled to the ground in a sobbing mess, hiding her face in her knees in hopes that Bill wouldn't notice.

Bill squinted. He did enjoy the sound of children crying, especially when they broke out of a terrible night terror that sent them scrambling into their parents’ bed for comfort. The sight of their little bodies shaking with fright while they were lied to about how everything was going to be alright (oh, how naïve they were) was easily the best part.

It took only a fraction of second before his mind easily touched hers, viewing the memories of two weeks past which had been the cause of this beautiful bad dream like a vignette. When he was satisfied, he floated down to her, leaned in close and put a long lanky arm over the girl’s shoulder. Beatrice flinched at the ethereal coolness of his skin, and looked up at her demon friend, who didn't seem to be off-put by her wet whimpering face. His eye looked oddly sincere. 

“Hey, don’t cry, kid! It was just a joke!”

He seemingly produced a white handkerchief from behind his back and handed it to her. Beatrice graciously took it and dabbed her eyes with it. When she blew her nose, the handkerchief let out a shrill male scream. She uneasily dropped it and watched the piece of cloth fold in on itself until it popped out of existence.

Bill patted her shoulder. “There. Don’t you feel better now?”

Beatrice nodded, sniffing.

Bill’s eye curled up again, and playfully poked at the little girl’s cheeks. “Alright, you little flesh muffin, let’s talk. But first, let's have a little change of atmosphere…”

Bill clapped his hands and the void spun around them until it settled onto a familiar scene Beatrice immediately recognized from _Alice in Wonderland_ – the oversized mushroom forest where Alice talked to the Caterpillar. Beatrice found herself sitting on a massive button mushroom while Bill hovered over just in front of her on a slightly larger toadstool. Everything was still tinted with swirls of grey, black and white, much to Beatrice’s disappointment since she was anticipating the bright colors of Wonderland. Still, it felt comforting to sit on something soft, despite still trying to work out the strange feeling of being awake in a dream.

“So, what can I do for you, honeybee?” Bill chirped. “You don’t mind being called that, right? Not hearing a ‘no’…”

“Bee’s my nickname,” Beatrice replied, kicking her feet together. “You can call me that if you want.”

“Great! I like a little gal who goes with the flow.”

Bill leapt off the toadstool and gradually dissipated into blue smoke right in front of her eyes. Beatrice’s eyes darted around the mushroom patch, curious and strangely amazed by the demon’s little magic act. She wondered where he would pop up next, bracing herself for another scare.

That is, until she squeaked when she felt something skittering up her back like a pair of spiders. She accidentally fell off the mushroom, but instead of hitting the hard ground straight down, she found herself lightly bouncing down on golden bricks before she landed on a rock with a soft thud. The bricks zoomed past her before they reassembled into Bill’s snickering triangular shape over her head. He didn’t even blink while his dislocated arms nimbly hopped off the stunned little girl’s shoulders and popped back into place at his sides with a plastic sounding 'click'.

With the snap of his fingers, Beatrice was suddenly sitting (and sinking) in a massive squishy black beanbag chair.

“So, Bee, I see that you’ve been dealing with Peter Cottontail for a little while,” Bill continued, casually dusting his arms off. “Must be pretty brave of you to handle that same nightmare over and over again for…how long? A week? Week and a half?”

“N-not really,” Beatrice mumbled, eyes looking away and wringing her hands nervously, desperately trying to stay calm. “It’s scary and I can’t sleep. I just want it to go away.”

“Well, I can help you right there.”

“You can?”

Bill laughed. “Of course, I can! I'm a _dream_ demon, after all."

"And...what do dream demons do?"

"Oh, I just live in people's heads. Not all of them, of course. I only pop up when I’m feeling a might peckish."

Beatrice was nervous on what he meant by that. "You... _eat_ people?"

Bill burst out in a shrill giggle. "You're a riot, kid, you know that? I don't eat _people_. I eat dreams! I also happen to help folks like you with your problems as a side job. Comes with the territory. It's amazing what your subconscious spits out when your eyes aren't open."

"So, you're here because of my nightmare?"

"Correctamundo! Kind of been envying it for a while now.” He nudged her in the ribs. “Really admiring that craftsmanship, you know that?”

“And if you get rid of it, I don’t have to have any more bad dreams?”

The demon shrugged. “Well, at least for a little while. Can’t always have happy dreams all the time. It would get boring. Plus, I’d be out of a job!”

Beatrice smiled happily for the first time in two weeks. He hopped out of the chair, quickly filling up with excitement. Finally, she could get some proper sleep!

“Okay, then do it!”

Bill held up a hand, gesturing to stop. “Hold on there, kiddo! There’s a rhythm to these things. I need something in return in order to make this work.”

“Like a trade?” Beatrice asked, scratching her head.

Bill straightened his bowtie, even though it was still sitting perfectly in place. “I prefer… _deal_.”

Beatrice didn’t exactly know what the best thing to give to a triangle demon as payment. Last time she checked her piggy bank, she didn’t have enough money to really spend on a new book (about four dollars). What _did_  demons like anyway? Candy? Toys? Maybe she could offer up one of her favorite books? She was pretty stumped. While she bit her lip, she winced as a familiar wave of pain spread across her lower jaw.

“Something wrong?” Bill asked, looking up from his non-existent nails.

“Just my teeth,” Beatrice murmured, rubbing at her sore mouth. “My two bottom ones are loose. They hurt a lot.”

“Mind if I take a peek?”

Beatrice strangely agreed and opened up her mouth, and Bill floated down and peered inside. He nudged the tiny teeth with a finger, positively enamored with the way they wiggled at the slightest touch.

“Yup,” he concluded, giving a slight nod with a squinted eye. “Definitely loose. Hanging on the last couple of nerves, if I’m not mistaken. I’m surprised you didn’t yank them out yet.”

“I’m not supposed to,” Beatrice answered, wearily. “I’m supposed to wait for them to fall on their own.”

“Must be driving you up the wall, though, am I right? You want to just rip them out now, don’t you?”

Beatrice uneasily nodded, feeling tempted to do so right now in front of Bill…

Unbeknownst to her, a lightbulb switched on above her head.

“My teeth!” she exclaimed.

Bill crossed his arms, angling his almost non-existing eyebrow keenly. “What about them?”

“For the deal. I can give you these two baby teeth and you can get rid of my nightmare.” She stopped, a little uncertain about her payment. “I mean…do demons like teeth?”

Bill said nothing for a moment, but his whole body said otherwise as it lit up in a seemingly pleasant and warm glow. He squished his hands to his eye with sudden glee, to which its pupil abruptly dilated until it almost completely blacked out the white.

“ _Are you kidding, kid?_ ” he shouted giddily. “I _love_ teeth!”

Beatrice’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Really?”

If Bill had shone any brighter, he could be a walking night light. “Oh, yes. I’ve got a collection back at my place. It’s a little hobby of mine. Every demon’s got one…or a thousand.”

Beatrice’s heart was racing with excitement. “Then…you’re okay with all this?”

“I’m sold!” Bill’s hand flashed blue with flames and held it out to the human girl. “Let’s shake on it.”

Beatrice was about to reach for his hand, before she hesitated and pulled back. There was something else that was nagging at the back of her mind.

“It won’t burn you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Bill said, rolling his eye. Honestly, the amount of times he saw humans flinch at the sight of demon fire got old really fast.

Beatrice shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…I’m giving you _two_ baby teeth. Shouldn’t I be getting something extra?”

“How so?”

“Like, I’d give you one tooth for the nightmare and the other for…” The girl paused, shrugging.

Bill tapped a finger under his eye. “Ah, I see. Good point. You catch on pretty quick. So, what do you want for the other one then?”

 _Wow. That was quick._ Beatrice was a little taken back of how well the demon was agreeing with her. “W-well, my birthday’s coming up soon…”

Bill snickered impishly. “ _Oh_. So, you want a little birthday present from little old me? Alright, I’ll bite.”

She fidgeted, her eyes looking away as nervously swallowed. “Um…well I…”

Her mind seemed to explode with endless possibilities and desires. What _did_ she want? There was always asking for a really cool pet…no, that’s not right. Maybe being able to meet one of her favorite authors in person…no, that didn’t make much sense. She was never great at making decisions on the spot.

She lost her train of jumbled thoughts as she felt Bill patting her head, like she was some sort of dog. The demon seemed amused, rather than impatient.

“That’s alright, kid,” he reassured her. “I’ll be nice and give you some time to think it over, since you've been such a good sport.”

Despite his unusually calm demeanor, Beatrice could see his fingers eagerly twitching at his sides. Best not to waste any more time, she thought.

She slowly nodded. “Um…okay.”

Beatrice braced herself as she took a deep breath, firmly grasped at Bill’s tiny hand and shook it. She watched as blue flames curled around her fingers, spread over her palm and the back of her hand, and twisted up to the edge of her wrist. Remarkably, there was barely any heat, feeling more a gentle tingling warmth spreading over her skin. It was quiet for a minute before Bill broke off the handshake first and floated backwards.

“Okay, little lady, say ‘Ah’!”

Before she had a chance to comply, Bill flicked a finger in the air and Beatrice’s mouth opened up on its own, much to her surprise. The demon made a lassoing gesture, and she could sense something firmly wrapping around her teeth like an invisible rope. Then, Bill waved a hand towards him. Beatrice felt a harsh tug as her head bobbed forward once, twice… and then she let out a sharp cry as her two bottom teeth jerkily ripped themselves free from her gums and floated into Bill’s palm.

She blinked back a couple of tears and a moan, nursing her now bleeding gums while Bill examined the teeth under a monocle, like a jeweler would examine a diamond.

“Yep. That’ll do it,” he concluded. “Pretty good condition. Could do with a bit more flossing, but what the heck, I’m not complaining!” He laughed, tossing the monocle over his left shoulder. “Thanks for the teeth, kid!”

“You’re welcome?” Beatrice answered, covering her mouth to avoid spitting up blood all over herself. “So, um, what happens when I figure out what I want? How do I find you again?”

Bill pocketed the teeth behind his back and then he flicked something over to her. She caught it and stared at a gold coin resting in her hand. It was about the quarter of the size of her palm and had a crude etching of a limbless Bill, which looked oddly similar to the pyramid on the one dollar bill. The other side was smooth and blank.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Bill said smugly.

▲▲▲

The demon’s voice was a calm echo when Beatrice suddenly awoke with a start, back in her bed. Her jaw was aching now, tasting blood in her mouth. She quickly ran to the bathroom across the hall and rinsed her mouth out with cold water several times before her gums felt numb. She ran a tongue over her teeth…only to widen in surprise at a large gaping space on her bottom jaw. She grinned at the mirror, the gap now visible as it ever was.

It wasn’t a dream! Bill had really done it!

She wanted to tell her mom the good news, but it was still early in the morning (3:39am, according to her clock), so she decided to head back into bed. As she was resting her head on her pillow, she felt something hard underneath it. Curious, she turned on her side table lamp and lifted the pillow off the mattress.

It was the coin.

She gingerly picked it up and immediately almost let it slip out of her fingers when she saw Bill Cipher’s eye blink at her and she felt the back of the coin grow hot in her palm. She turned it over and noticed there was now a small inscription engraved on the once blank space.

_Keep me close, you busy little Bee_

_And dream a little dream of me._

Beatrice smiled and squeezed the coin tight in her hand as a sign of thanks. She then gently kissed Bill’s face on the coin (silly, she knew, but she was in such a good mood she couldn’t help it), and stuffed it into her pillowcase.

“Night, Bill,” she whispered.

When she turned off the light and fell back to sleep, she was greeted with the happiest of dreams.

▲▲▲

Meanwhile, in the darkness of her bedroom, the little gold coin shone brightly. A little twisted cackle drifted through the air as a faint triangular shadow belonging to Bill Cipher eerily hovered on the back wall over the little girl’s bed frame.

A shadowy hand crawled over to Beatrice’s forehead and touched it. A golden sigil of his eye appeared, bright as a neon sign upon opening wide. It twinkled softly for a moment, before a dark massive shadow jerkily slithered from under Beatrice’s bed and clawed up the wall, taking the misshapen form of a hulking rabbit with large red eyes. It opened its massive jaws at the dream demon, but Bill was unfazed as his free arm stretched out, made a loop around the rabbit’s neck and squeezed. The shadow creature howled and wriggled for a second, before it shivered, melted and then was sucked up into the demon’s form.

Bill’s eye opened up and looked down at the now peacefully sleeping seven year-old girl. He daintily patted her little head, seeing it slowly nestle deep into her pillow and her tiny body calmly curling under her warm sheets. He could see the auras wafting off her clear as day: _safe, calm,_ and most of all, _happy_.

Well, he thought. The little meat sack deserved it. She had been a good sport about the whole ordeal. And not many seven year-olds were brave like her, despite her denial of it.

He was still eagerly awaiting her call, but he already knew. He always knew…to a certain extent. There were still paths being branched out to the outcome, and Bill did like to guess from time to time, if just to keep him on the edge. All she would need is a little _push_ , but for now, it was best now to watch from afar in her Mindscape. He would have his fun later. Much later.

_“See you soon, kid…”_

Bill’s silhouette slid down the wall and disappeared under Beatrice’s pillow with a whisper of a chuckle.

The golden sigil on Beatrice’s forehead brightened and she murmured something like “thank you” before her mind completely blacked out and fell into the embrace of the deepest and sweetest sleep she had ever experienced.

The glow from the coin and Bill’s mark eventually faded away until finally, everything was quiet, still and dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate the cruelty of children...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of physical violence (esp. child violence), mild swearing and vomiting in this chapter. You have been warned.

Not only did Beatrice sleep well, but she was beginning to feel more like her old self again when she awoke that Saturday morning. Her mother was shocked to find her daughter’s teeth were not just missing, but straight up _vanished_ , when she looked up from her morning crossword puzzle at the kitchen table. Beatrice made up a story where she was visited by the Tooth Fairy in her dreams (well, a tooth _demon_ , but that was beside the point) but, Julia logically led herself to believe that her daughter had somehow accidentally swallowed her teeth in her sleep. That always seemed to happen to children once in a blue moon, right?

It was later that day that she presented Beatrice with two dollars, claiming that the Tooth Fairy had to come back to drop it off when she had ‘forgotten’. Beatrice thought about spending it on a pack of gummy bears at the grocery store that day, but she decided to save it instead. Her birthday was coming up soon, after all. Saving her small allowance of three-fifty per week was going to be a hassle, but she was already brainstorming up some interesting ideas.

Beatrice kept Bill’s coin in a black velvet drawstring bag (which originally held her small collection of marbles) and carefully hid it away in the small corner of her dresser from her mother’s prying eyes. She made sure she only put it under her pillow every night when she slept.

It was strange. Even though she couldn’t remember her dreams than she normally could, she always seemed to have an air of happiness about her when she woke up. Maybe it was because the amount of sleep she was getting per night or it was probably the fact that never once did she wake up frightened in the middle of the night. Bill had kept his end of the bargain and that was all that mattered. 

When Beatrice arrived at school the following Monday morning, she braced herself for the teasing. Sara and Hannah were at least back to their friendly selves. Most of the kids were too distracted when they spotted the enormous gap at the bottom of her mouth. Some of them asked if it hurt. Others asked about how much money she got from the Tooth Fairy. Jimmy Green actually _spoke_ to her, much to her surprise, daring her to try spitting out water at a water fountain. (Beatrice mostly dribbled on herself in the attempt, but they had a good laugh about it).

One kid asked at the beginning of lunchtime how she realized her teeth were loose. Beatrice just pointed at Laura May.

“I didn’t look where I was running,” she said simply, opening up her yogurt tube. She was still getting over eating with two teeth missing (and Bill really did a number on her gums), so her mother had packed some soft foods for her to eat. She had some chicken noodle soup in her thermos, along with some molasses cookies and raisins and an extra tube of yogurt. Jimmy offered up an orange for one of her cookies, which they traded under their desks from the eyes of their young judgmental peers.

Laura May just scoffed at Beatrice while she opened up her new hot pink Barbie lunchbox. “She was running to the bathroom and tripped over,” she said. “She peed her pants on the way there.”

“How could you see me? You and everyone else ran into the next room.”

“My mom told me.”

_“Liar.”_

Beatrice threw a raisin at Laura May’s head, bouncing into her lunchbox. The blonde shot Beatrice a dirty look, before she threw the raisin back at her. Beatrice didn’t bother to retaliate, only taking a deep sip from her juice box (which was pretty funny to stick the straw through the gaping hole in her mouth). No sense of wasting good food on garbage like her.

And so the weeks passed, and the silent grudges repeated.

Laura May was still craving attention and tried anything to ruin Beatrice’s day. She stole food from her lunchbox, but then both Sara and Hannah would share part of their meals or Jimmy would offer an extra snack to her at recess (his mother always packed too much food because she thought he wasn’t eating enough). She colored in her chapter books, which did upset Beatrice for a short time, but then realized that it didn’t matter since the words were still visible. She even bribed some of the boys to flick paper hornets at her in exchange for new Transformers toys, but they were easily caught by the teacher and made them sit inside during recess.

Laura May even went as far as pretending that Beatrice had kicked her ankle during their soccer game in gym class. Beatrice made the best of sitting on the sidelines by cheering on her team. By the time class ended, she had forgotten the whole ordeal. She even pointed out how well Laura May was walking now with her injured ankle.

The blonde girl still hadn’t forgiven Beatrice about ruining her birthday. Sometimes, she claimed she would take it to the grave with her.

 ▲▲▲

It was a quiet and relaxing art period on a mid-Wednesday morning in early April. Beatrice, Sara, Hannah and, their newest member, Jimmy, were conversing about Beatrice’s upcoming birthday party in the next two weeks while they were working on their spring projects. She was still struggling on her choice for a theme and her mother was already starting to book reservations with a close friend at the local community center since their condo was too small to house so many people. After all, her family would be there and a handful of friends too. She had already turned down anything related to horses, unicorns, Barbie, Pokémon and princesses-themed parties, since she was never quite caught on with them. They had been going back and forth with suggestions all morning and currently, Beatrice was in middle of debating between superheroes and dragons.

“Not enough girl superheroes though,” Beatrice said with a sigh. “Black Widow is cool and all, but why can’t there be like a girl Iron Man or a girl Thor?”

“What about Batgirl and Supergirl?” Hannah exclaimed. “And Wonder Woman! I can’t believe you forgot Wonder Woman! She’s, like, the best!”

“That’s why _you_ had a Wonder Woman party last year,” Sara pointed out, rolling her eyes. “What about Disney? There’s lots of Disney things.”

Beatrice scrunched her nose, tearing up some yellow construction paper into tiny scraps. “Yeah, but it’s always princess stuff. Or _Cars_. You can never find very much Peter Pan stuff outside of Tinkerbell.”

“Pirates are cool,” Hannah said, sharpening an orange colored pencil. “But then, you’re always fighting ninjas.”

“I like ninjas!” Jimmy piped up, who was busy scribbling some trees. “I’ve got some Legos of them at home. Why don’t you do pirates versus ninjas?”

Sara sucked at her teeth. “That might be tricky. If we got people to dress up, we’d probably have more than the other. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“True. Scratch that.” Hannah went back to coloring her Easter mural, which was looking like a mountain of painted Easter eggs and flowers.

It took a moment before Sara snatched onto an idea and snapped her fingers. Beatrice flinched while unscrewing a glue bottle. Ever since her encounter with Bill, she had been jumpy at the sound, instinctively whirling around to what she presumed was the demon staring down at her. She flicked a piece of hair out of her face to avoid suspicion.

“Why don’t you do a big magic party?” Sara suggested. “That goes a long way with games and stuff.”

“What, like Harry Potter?” Beatrice mused.

Sara shook her head. “No, no. _Real_ magic. Like when…” She paused, gesturing to Laura May who was sitting with her little group of friends by the windows. “You know...but not as bad.”

Beatrice thought over this as she added another dollop of glue onto her paper. “Hmm… let’s put in at the top three. I still like the superhero idea. Dragons are cool, too. You can do lots of things with dragons.”

While the gang were discussing, their teacher, Mrs. Andrews, had been making her rounds around the classroom to check up everyone’s progress and asking questions on what was influencing their artwork. When she had arrived at Beatrice’s table, she raised an eye as she peered over the girl’s shoulder. She was using a lot of torn-up yellow construction paper and not much else, besides some washed out grey and blue wavy watercolors for the background on the student’s sheet of paper.

“And, what are you making, Beatrice?” she asked.

“Hmm…not sure yet. I was painting something, but I didn’t like it. Then I thought about making a mosaic, so I’m mixing that together.”

“I see.” Mrs. Andrews paused, now noticing on closer inspection that the pile of paper had been arranged into triangle in the center of the painted background. Beatrice glued a thin strip of black over a white oval, transforming it into a large cat slit eye. For some odd reason, a shiver went up the teacher’s spine as the girl placed it dead center of the yellow shape.

“What’s… that?”

Beatrice hesitated, almost speaking out the demon’s name, but quickly thought that might not be the best idea. Bill might get angry. 

“Oh, I saw this tattoo on this guy when I was at the grocery store and I thought it looked cool.”

Mrs. Andrews slowly nodded, not saying a word as she passed to Jimmy and commenting on his budding spring forest.

▲▲▲

About half an hour later, the bell rang for lunch and the children handed in their work before they all rushed into the hall to grab their lunchboxes. Before Beatrice could reach the door, Mrs. Andrews put a hand on her shoulder.

“May I have a word with you?” she asked. Her tone seemed to have the right balance of firm and softness to it.

Beatrice’s stomach tightened as she nodded and she was guided to Mrs. Andrews’s desk. The teacher gingerly pulled out her artwork from the stack of papers sitting on the edge of her desk and placed it between them.

“You do realize that the theme was supposed to be surrounding spring, not tattoo art,” Mrs. Andrews pointed out firmly. “And certainly not odd…symbols like a triangle with an eye and…” She stared at it, puzzled. “A top hat and a bow tie?”

“But it’s not finished yet!” Beatrice interrupted. “See, he’s going to have arms and legs and-”

“ _Beatrice_. Please. Let me finish.”

Beatrice closed her mouth in defeat. Her eyes lowered to the floor and she dug her hands into her jeans pockets. “Sorry, miss.”

Mrs. Andrews sighed, pointing at the triangle again. “Do you know what this symbol means?”

Beatrice looked back up and shook her head. 

“Well, to put it simply, it’s a bad symbol.”

“Sorry, miss.”

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t know, but you should ask questions about these sorts of things if you don’t know something.” The teacher slid the picture back into the pile. “It’s a very… _interesting_ picture, but you’ll have to make something else to hand in next class.”

Beatrice nodded again, sad that she wasn’t going to be able to finish her Bill portrait. It had been coming along so well. “Yes, miss.” 

“Now, I’m not angry,” Mrs. Andrews continued. “I’ve just been concerned. I’ve been noticing lately that you and Laura May have been...not getting along.”

 _She just figured it out_ now _?_ Beatrice simply shrugged. “We were, but it’s okay now.”

“Are you sure?”

Another nod. “I’m fine.”

“Alright. Have a good lunch.”

Beatrice smiled and dashed out into the hallway. Sighing, Mrs. Andrews started placing her class’s art projects in a folder. She paused for a moment upon gathering the papers, noticing that Beatrice’s picture was sitting on top of the pile.

 _Funny_. _I could have sworn I had put it in the middle._

She felt a sudden chill creep up her spine upon staring straight at the triangle’s eye, almost like it was alive. She shook her head in disbelief, quickly closed the folder and stuffed it into one of her files in her desk.

 _What kind of child paints a picture of the Illuminati symbol?_ She wondered, picking up her briefcase and heading down the hall towards the teacher’s lounge. 

Unbeknownst to her (as well as everyone else on the mortal plane), her own shadow seemed to quiver under the bright florescent lights. A single demonic looking eye – almost identical to what was plastered on Beatrice’s picture - opened up under her feet.

It shone scarlet.

It would be later on that particular night that Mrs. Andrews would be plagued by an onslaught of terrifying nightmares, forcing her awake every couple of hours and in the end, ruining whatever sleep she had managed to grab. The night terrors would repeat for the following three days, leading her to believe that it was being caused by her resurfacing insomnia. Even with her new prescribed medication, she still awoke almost every hour either screaming or in a cold sweat.

Friday night was when the dwindling groggy effects finally took their toll when she was driving back home from a friend’s dinner party. It only took one short collapse on the steering wheel and a misplacement on the gas pedal, before her tiny Volkswagen collided into the back of a family sized minivan. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured aside from the respective vehicles, but Mrs. Andrews had the worst shock of her life when she awoke to find her body had been tightly secured to a stretcher and was being carted on her way to the emergency room. It would take her the next week and a half to recuperate, but she slept much longer without any sudden interruptions, most likely because of all the drugs and pain killers they were pumping into her system.

The worst could have been said when she received her hospital bill at the end of her stay and quickly passed out in the waiting room, but not before she vaguely heard an echoed high pitched cackle droning on through her head.

Something that could have been pulled from her very nightmares…

 ▲▲▲

Beatrice felt a tap on her shoulder while waiting in line for the swings during recess. Laura May stood there dressed in a flashy purple raincoat and yellow rubber boots, and her hair was pulled into a bun. She was stoic for a moment, eyes looking away as she puffed out her cheeks in awkward fashion.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“Hey,” Beatrice answered slowly, ready to brace herself for another teasing session. She had noticed that her bully had backed off for the last few days, so she suspected something was up.

Laura May placed her hands in her pockets. “Can I… talk to you for a second? In private?”

Beatrice took a deep breath, pushing all the quelled rage at the back of her mind and sighed. “Sure.”

They walked up the top of the hill, close to one of the school’s side entrances and the edge of the forest that surrounded the right side of the building. The two girls just stared at each other blankly, unsure who to speak first. Finally, Laura May dug into one of her jacket pockets and pulled out a familiar flat stone almost twice the size of her hand. Beatrice’s eyes widened.

“My fossil!” she gasped. “I thought I lost it! Where did you find it?”

“It was lying around somewhere around here,” Laura May replied coolly. “I found it the other day.”

Beatrice made a grab for it, but Laura May pulled away.

“It’s funny. I didn’t think about it at first, but then I thought: why did your stupid rock beat out my rainbow fairy dress? I always win at show and tell.”

“It’s not a competition, Laura May. Now, give it back! It’s important!” She leapt at the blonde girl, only for her to scuttle away with a smirk.

“How is it important? It’s just a rock. It won’t break…”

Laura May flung the flat piece of imprinted stone at the brick wall, and Beatrice could only watch helplessly as she saw her father’s gift snap into several pieces and tumble to the muddy ground at her feet.

“Oops,” Laura May jeered, mockingly covering a hand over her mouth. “Guess it must have been a fake.”

Beatrice tried desperately to calm herself down, but the sight of her broken birthday gift made it impossible to do so.

“Betcha your dad bought it at a gift shop since your family is so cheap. A _real_ fossil wouldn’t break.”

“Shut up!” Beatrice shouted. Her throat tightened, gasping for air through her hiccuping sobs. “That’s…that’s a lie.” Her father was thousands of miles away and she couldn’t ask for another one. To top it all off, she had just found out a couple of days ago that he wasn’t going to make it for her birthday because of an extension on his stay in South America.

“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up over a rock,” Laura May sneered. “You didn’t seem to have a problem when you left your bag lying open outside.”

Beatrice spun around with a horrified stare, her once held back tears now streaming down her cheeks. Something started to bubble inside of her. She felt a knot twisting in the pit of her stomach, her mouth trembling, her eyes burning…and her hands were slowly but tightly curling at her sides.

“You _stole_ it?” she choked.

Laura May rolled her eyes. “Didn’t think you’d miss it.”

Those five words made that something _snap_.

The next thirty seconds were a blur. Beatrice was like a wild animal as she roared and tackled Laura May to the ground. The blonde let out a surprised scream, trying her best to push the other girl off of her, but Beatrice had her fingers curled tight around her wrists. Laura May wailed and flailed, sending a hard kick into Beatrice’s stomach. She recoiled and gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Laura May started to run away, but Beatrice managed wrestle her bully back under her and the two girls toppled over each other down the hill to the playground, kicking up clods of mud and grass as they scrapped.

The playground suddenly became a schoolyard arena as their classmates gathered around Beatrice and Laura May, cheering either side on as the two girls fought. They pulled at hair, pinched and clawed at open skin, punching and kicking in any vulnerable spot they could find. Laura May unexpectedly landed a hit at Beatrice’s nose, with blood gushing over her lips. Beatrice managed to knock a couple of hard slaps across Laura May’s face, before biting the blonde’s left hand (which was surprisingly hard when you were missing two bottom teeth).

It was only a few minutes later when Beatrice was forcibly pulled away from Laura May from one of the supervising teachers and had to be restrained in a headlock. Her eyes were still blazed over with cruel fury while she tried to wiggle free but with no avail. She screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling fresh hot tears rolling down her scuffed, bruised and bloody face as she kicked the air in agonizing defeat.

 _“Get over here, you heartless_ bitch _! You filthy liar! We’re not done!”_

 ▲▲▲

Both girls were immediately sent to the office, forcibly seated on either side of the wall and monitored by the school nurse. Neither of them spoke, only glaring daggers at one another until they were called into the principal’s office. As the door clicked shut, Laura May immediately played the guilty frail girl card with her little sniffles and whimpers. Beatrice tried to protest through the claims of her schoolyard enemy, but unfortunately, the evidence fell heavily on her. After all, she had thrown the first punch.

In the end, Laura May had gotten off with a warning but had to stay after school to talk to her parents. Beatrice was ordered to stay after school for detention and her punishment was to continue over the course of the following week. Julia was not impressed when she had to pick up her daughter from school later that afternoon and had a long talk on their drive home.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Julia snapped. 

“It’s not my fault!” Beatrice retorted. “Laura May stole the fossil daddy sent to me and then, she threw it at the wall and broke it because I beat her at show-and-tell that one time! And then she called our family cheap, and-”

“You hit her,” Julia finished. “ _And_ you bit her. It’s a miracle you didn’t break the skin, and even more that you weren’t suspended.”

Beatrice wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Despite being treated by the school nurse, the odd trickle of blood still leaked from her bruised nose. Thankfully, Laura May wasn’t a prized fighter or else it would have been broken.

“I heard that you also called her the b-word?”

Beatrice crossed her arms firmly and slumped in her seat. “Well, she _is_.”

“Bee, that is no excuse. You don’t say things like that. I’ve raised you better than this. Now, sit up.”

Beatrice shuffled back up in her seat, still pouting harder than ever. She avoided eye contact with her mother by looking at the cars passing in the side mirror.

As they approached a stop sign, Julia sighed. “As much as I am proud of you for sticking up for yourself, you can’t just go and pick fights just because someone says something mean to you. It’s not right.”

“Then, what _is_ right?” Beatrice grumbled. “I just let her do whatever she wants?”

“No, but…” Julia groaned and pinched the corners of her eyes. “You can at least talk to me about it, or a teacher, or even the school counselor. You shouldn’t use violence for that sort of thing. That’s how wars start, you know.”

“Nobody believes me.”

“I do.” The car made another turn at the gas station. “And believe it or not, I do think that her parents really need to buckle down on her. I saw her making a big scene in the parking lot.” Julia shook her head. “I swear, it’s like they don’t know how to say no to her.” She recalled Mrs. Benson cradling her ‘fragile’ blubbering daughter and smothering her with kisses, even though she must have been secretly repulsed to see dirt, blood and grass stains all over her little girl. She had also overheard a promise of ice cream before they had entered their minivan.

“Thanks, mommy,” Beatrice mumbled softly.

“That doesn’t mean you’re off Scott free, you know,” Julia warned. “If you do something like this again, then there’s no birthday party for you.”

Beatrice gawked at her mother. How could she? “But mom-!”

“I mean it. You’re also grounded. No T.V. or computer for a week. You can only use the computer for school. That’s it. Understood?”

“That’s not fair!” Beatrice shouted.

_“Beatrice Marissa Holloway.”_

Beatrice instantly went quiet. Whenever her mom would address her by her full name and in that commanding parental tone meant she was serious. She fidgeted in her seat, wringing her hands, knuckles still sore from the scuffle.

“Yes’m.”

 ▲▲▲

Beatrice was so angry that she barely ate much at dinner and she couldn’t get through a single chapter of any of her books. She couldn’t even settle herself down through meditation like she normally would in a stressful situation. Instead, she flopped onto her bed on her stomach and grabbed her pillow, pressing it tightly against her face. It muffled her loud painful screams as she kicked her legs into her mattress. Tears stung her eyes for the second time today.

That girl was horrible. _Horrible._ She had no respect for other people’s feelings or belongings. All she cared about was herself and her stupid dolls. Beatrice’s stomach tightened, falling back into that awful sick and helpless feeling she had experienced not too long ago.

She pulled herself away from her pillow, her teeth clamped into a hissing sneer.

No, not again.

_Not ever again._

It was time for this little bee to sting back. Laura May had to be stopped.

Wiping her eyes, she rushed to her dresser and dumped out Bill’s coin into her hand. Her mind seemed to instantly calm down as she felt its familiar warmth to spread across her right palm. She sat on her bed cross-legged and pleadingly stared at the eye in Bill’s triangular face.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she whispered. “But I need your help.”

She closed her hands tightly around the coin, shutting her eyes almost like she was in prayer…

 _ **Please.**_   _Bill, I need you._

 ▲▲▲

Beatrice opened her eyes, only to find herself floating in an angry gray sea. Her head dipped under the frothy foam for a moment and spat up foul tasting seawater.

“Bill?” She coughed. “Bill, are you there?”

She screwed her eyes tight, concentrating on trying to conjure up something to keep her afloat. A raft, an inner tube, water wings… _anything_! How does Bill do it? She suddenly screamed as something grabbed at her ankles and dragged her under without warning. A gush of bubbles exploded from her mouth as the water pressure began to tighten all around her little frame and fill her ears and mouth. Her stomach flipped and vision spun wildly, diving deeper into the dark watery depths…

Then the next thing she knew, she was sitting in a comfy chair in some sort of small café, dry as a bone. A wide circular table sprung up from out of the ground and draped itself with a white tablecloth. Next, a silver tea set shimmered into existence like a mirage. Two white bone china cups and saucers gently clattered on the table, settling next to a towering desert tray that piled high with an array of finely cut finger sandwiches, scones, fruit, cream filled pastries and slices of at least three different types of cake.

She was about to grab a strawberry and cream layered scone, before she spotted a gold plastic ‘reserved’ sign set at the other end of the table.

It wiggled. Color started to drain from the atmosphere, washing everything over into a familiar dull gray. The atmospheric clatter of dishes and hissing of coffee machines slowed down into an otherworldly hum. Then the sign was sucked into the table just as a triangle shaped black hole appeared in its stead.

Bill Cipher rose out of the doorway and settled in plain view on the other end of the table. He didn’t actually sit, only eerily hovered like usual, casually peering at an oversized gold pocket watch in his left hand.

“Well, it’s about time, kid!” he chirped, glancing over at the girl while he clamped the timepiece shut and put it behind his back.

He pulled out his cane, pointed it at the spread and the teapot shuddered to life, gently floating in the air as it poured a dark, steamy liquid into one of the teacups. Two small sugar cubes hobbled out of their respective jar and dived into the cup as a thin stream of milk trickled from the jug. A tiny spoon stirred the concoction while the cup floated over to Beatrice, who graciously took it with a small amused smile. Its warmth in her hands was like Bill’s coin and she let herself relax in her chair. She couldn’t pinpoint the smell, something like a mix of sweet but salty, but it was just as welcoming and calming.

The demon leaned forward, staring straight at the human girl with his massive unblinking eye. “So, what kept you?”

“I… didn’t know you would answer so quickly,” Beatrice said shakily, placing her cup down on the table to cool.

“Oh, I keep a close _eye_ on all my clients.” Bill snapped his fingers and Beatrice’s school mosaic portrait of himself flickered into his hand. He examined it with a curious stare. “Nice playground brawl by the way. I was wondering when you would crack under the pressure.”

Beatrice went quiet, biting the inside of her cheek at the resurfacing memory. Her fingers curled into her chair cushion, feeling the odd sting of her bruises across her skin.

“I’m ready.”

Bill was so surprised at the tone that the artwork spontaneously combusted and crumbled to ash. There was barely a trace of the usual faint heartiness in the girl’s voice. It was now firm, cold and nasty. He could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes, but she was forcing them back, breathing hard to control herself. Her aura said it all: _revenge_.

“Mmm…sounds like you are,” he purred, cupping a hand near the top of his body. “So, lay it on me, birthday girl! I’m all ears…well, if I _had_ ears.”

“I want you to scare Laura May Benson,” she said. “ _Really_ scare her, so she never bothers anyone ever again.”

“Really? Just some of revenge nightmares to get her off your back?” Bill mused. “Well, if that’s what you want, I can-”

 _“I wasn’t finished yet!”_ Beatrice snapped hotly, her eyes narrowing into an annoyed scowl. If it was one thing she couldn’t stand, is was when people interrupted -

Her heated demeanor vanished in the span of a microsecond, as the café was swallowed up into darkness. Bill tripled in size, growing to the size of a minivan. His whole body darkened into a familiar shade of stovetop element red and his limbs brightened into a blinding white.  Beatrice squeaked and immediately clamped her mouth shut. She found herself shrinking under the gaze of the angry demon’s gigantic black eye, his hot white pupil seemingly burning into her soul.  

 ** _“Mind your manners,”_** Bill buzzed. His voice had severely deepened, enough so that the booming vibrations sent literal shivers up the little girl’s spine.

Beatrice gulped and shakily nodded her head. “ _Y-yessir_. _S-sorry, sir._ ”

Satisfied, Bill shut his eye and he gradually shrank and lightened back to normal. The blanket of darkness peel away from the colorless coffee shop background.

Beatrice felt her little heart beating a mile a minute and cursed for being so stupid. She was a foot and a half away from a demon who could probably give her endless nightmares if she wasn’t careful. Bill outstretched an arm and helped himself to a slice of gray and white cake off the tray with a pleasant hum.

“ _Now_ ,” Bill continued, sticking the entire slice on a fork. “You were saying something about scaring this girl to death?” Something about the odd cheerfulness of his voice made Beatrice’s skin crawl. It was just _oozing_ a sickly sweetness.

Beatrice didn’t reply. Her throat was tight and dry as her eyes darted to her lap, realizing her hands were becoming numb. She had been digging into her chair so tightly that her knuckles had gone stark white. She pried her fingers away from the cushion and when her gaze returned back to Bill, she noticed the cake was gone and his plate was clean. Not even so much as a crumb or a smudge of icing remained. The demon gingerly dabbed the napkin near his eye.

Beatrice shuddered. She didn’t even want to know if the demon secretly had a mouth or imagine what it looked like.

“N-not to death,” she said quietly. “Just really, really scare her.”

“Anything in mind?” Bill inquired, folding his napkin into what appeared to an origami crown. “Normally, I don’t ask because I like to do my own work. Messes with the creative flow, you see, but you seem to _really_ hate this girl’s guts.”

It didn’t take long before the spark of hate burned in Beatrice eyes once more.

“She doesn’t care about anyone except herself and her stupid dolls and toys,” she explained, feeling her face growing hot with rage. “And it’s not just me. She treats _everyone_ like we’re her playthings. One minute, she’s nice to you and the next, she walks all over you. She’s just been picking on me more because of what happened at her birthday party, and that whole thing was a complete accident! _And she knows that!_ ” She slammed a fist on the table, the vibrations making her cup clatter in her saucer, but not enough to spill a drop of tea. “If she knew how she’s been playing around with my feelings, then maybe she would back off and leave everyone alone.”

Bill drank in every anger laced word she spoke and every flickering memory that resurfaced from her mind. It was hot, bitter, twisted and delightful, feeling the emotions waver off her aura in short bursts. Who knew such a tiny human had been packing all that repressed heat away?

As Beatrice slowly calmed herself down, she saw that the demon’s eye had curled upwards, almost like he was grinning ear to ear (if he had a mouth or ears to begin with) with a sudden twisted delight. He pressed his hands close to his eye and snickered.

“That’s what I admire about you kids. Not only do you scare easily, but your imagination is immense!”

Beatrice slowly held out her hand. “So, you’ll help me?”

Bill nodded, or he bent the upper part of his body to at least try and pull off a nod. “Of course! I got your back, kid.”

With not even as much a flicker of a spark, Bill’s right hand became surrounded in cerulean flames. Beatrice wasted no time into taking it once more, firmly pumping it with a satisfied smirk. At last, the contract was complete.

She let out a sigh of relief as she watched the demon’s fire fade away and broke off her handshake. Noticing her throat was dry and scratchy, she grabbed her cup of tea, took a long sip… and abruptly spluttered.

Even with the sugar, which made her teeth ache, the tea tasted cold and bitter. She could have sworn the milk had turned too, feeling an acidic tang lingering on her tongue. She put the cup back down gently, trying to be polite in front of the demon without trying to spit up. It took a couple of tries before she forced herself to swallow.

“So… that’s it?” she coughed.

“All done, sweetheart,” Bill replied, dusting off his hands. “Marked it up on my calendar and everything. Wouldn’t want to miss it for the world!” He casually took a cup and saucer while the sentient tea set tended to his needs.

Beatrice smiled. “Great!” She could still taste that awful tea…or whatever that stuff was, at the back of her throat, now curdling into something vile. She strained another hard gulp, trying to keep it down. “Wait…calendar? What do you mean-?”

“Ah, ah, ah! It’s my little surprise!” the demon interrupted in a sing song tone, waggling a tiny finger like he was scolding his own child. As he lifted the cup up to eye level, he added, “Oh, by the way, you _might_ want to sit up…”

“What-?”

Beatrice blinked and she found herself back in her dark bedroom, cold sweat clinging fabric to her skin. She felt her stomach tighten and churn, hearing the sound of angry gurgling erupting in her gut.

Heeding Bill’s warning, she bolted upright, only feeling ten times worse as her head throbbed with the rush of blood. She moaned as she felt her queasy stomach lurch in painful fashion and gagged when the first wave of burning nausea hit the back of her throat. She clasped a hand over her mouth and swallowed hard, but that failed when she coughed up something sour.

Panicking, Beatrice stumbled out of bed. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead while hugging her queasy, angry insides with shaky breaths. She had seconds to spare before she locked the bathroom door and her knees buckled under her. She dragged her trembling body over to the toilet bowl and slumped over it, moaning even louder. Bracing for the worst, she took her last shuddering gulp of air and miserably emptied the contents of her erratic stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little calm before the party starts...

Three hours and two baths later, Beatrice grumbled to herself while shivering in bed in a new clean pair of pajamas, hugging a bucket in one arm and trying to keep a cold wet rag from slipping off her forehead. According to her mother, it was a bad case of the stomach flu, and due to it being highly contagious, Beatrice would have to miss school for at least a few days. She didn’t mind in the slightest since she needed a break anyway from yesterday’s incident.

She kept replaying her meeting with Bill over and over again in her mind, moving his coin through her fingers and rubbing it for good luck. It was only the second time she had the met the creature, but it had felt so _real_. She could recall everything down to the feel of their flame bound handshake. Dreams were never that clear to grasp, at least to her knowledge. Despite his creepiness, Bill seemed like a nice guy…demon…thing. After all, he did hold up his bargain of removing her nightmare, so he could be trusted right? The mention of his calendar kept her guessing, but she was so weary from trying to hold back another puking episode, that she figured time would only tell.

Her mother switched shifts that morning to care for her daughter while she got hold of a replacement babysitter. Emma was currently in the middle of finals month, so she was unable to come by in the afternoon for next couple of weeks. Instead, Aunt Vanessa took the call and came over after lunch.

Aunt Vanessa wasn’t technically Beatrice’s aunt, but her godmother. In reality, she was a longtime friend of her mother’s going all the way back to the seventh grade. She was a very curvaceous forty-something Black woman with dark skin and wild curly black hair. She was always dressed in tight fitting, but beautiful-looking clothes and always wore some kind of scarf, either around her neck or on her head (sometimes both). Even though Beatrice wasn’t a huge fan of girly things, she thought Aunt Vanessa always had the coolest looking earrings.

Julia decided temporarily to lift Beatrice’s grounding in favor of her illness, so her TV privileges were returned. After a small lunch of saltine crackers and ginger ale, Beatrice settled down on the living room couch in a mountain of blankets and pillows, and popped on _Aladdin._ She was just at the part where the main character was trapped in the Cave of Wonders when the doorbell rang. Aunt Vanessa popped her head into the living room, pulled off her large sunglasses and beamed sweetly at her.

“Hey, sweetie!”

Beatrice waved while weakly smiling back. “Hi, Aunt Vanessa.”

Vanessa strolled into the living room, wearing a long flowing fuchsia top over black leggings with white skulls. A royal purple silk scarf was draped around her neck. She leaned down and gently hugged her niece, the scent of cloves and oranges wafting off her as she kissed the child’s cheeks.

She put a palm to the girl’s rather feverish forehead. “Oh, honeybee. You look dreadful!”

“I _feel_ dreadful,” Beatrice said with a shuddering cough.

“You know what’s good to have when you have a bad stomach? Ginger tea. I’ll go and -”

 _“No!”_ Beatrice bolted upright, clutching one of the couch pillows shakily until her knuckles turned white. It took a minute to focus on not trying to pass out or throw up before she gave a quivering wheeze. “I… just ate.”

Vanessa gave her niece a suspicious look and then merely shrugged. “Alright then.” She tucked the blankets into the couch, fluffed up the pillows and caressed the girl’s head. “You just relax and try and get some rest. If you start to feel icky at any time, just holler. I’ll be in the kitchen doing my Sudoku.”

Beatrice nodded, let her head sink back into the stack of pillows and returned to the movie. By the time the musical performance of _You’ve Never Had a Friend like Me_ had finished, she decided to shut her eyes. She didn’t _feel_ tired, but her whole aching body was telling her otherwise. It was kind of annoying.

 _Just for a couple of minutes,_ she thought. _Just a few…_

▲▲▲

In the wobbly haze of the Mindscape, Bill Cipher casually hovered over the sick child, his eye squinting as he watched her struggle and twitch in her swaddle of blankets. Humans were always so vulnerable when their bodies betrayed them at the first sign of an illness entering their system. You’d get one little whiff of some nasty microorganism and the next thing you knew, your whole body shuts down into an intense healing mode. Though in some cases, the whole body would just shut down…permanently.  (Bill always liked catching the last glimpses of their mortal life before it was snuffed out like a melting candle.)

Luckily for him, his pintsized contractor would pull through her little illness with ease. He could see it clear as day with just a bat of an eyelash. Give it a week, tops, and she would be right as rain.

He had to begrudgingly admit that the girl was pretty smart for her age making a deal with a demon, but even she didn’t even know the incredible value of what she had offered him as payment. Losing your first tooth was a rite of passage in terms of age for human children, but losing two for the first time was a rare coincidence. Not to mention there were strong memories attached to each one.

Memories were a delicacy in the demon realm. Besides the customary sweet fluffy dreams and the rich savory nightmares, childhood memories were a much higher and more delectable prize. Bill got more than he bargained for with not only just a strong memory forged in two baby teeth, but Beatrice’s nightmare for his budding buffet. He would be able to satiate his fill for at least a month off of that beast.

But still, something didn’t seem right. Sure, he got some lovely soul food, but…it didn’t sit well with him. It was like his energies were tightening at one spot in his being, egging him on about something…Gods, what did the humans call it? _Empathy?_

The demon groaned. _Ugh. Really? This again?_

It was always the quiet ones, but the _little_ quiet ones were worse. It wasn’t unusual as one would expect, but Bill sometimes had a secret soft spot for children. It occasionally happened where he would get the odd twinge of what he assumed was compassion sometime after he made a deal with a specific child or simply passing through a child’s Mindscape. As much as he liked to scare and torment the little meat bags with his presence or his endless supply of eldritch horrors and nightmares from his own realm, there were times where he didn’t mind a change of pace and gave the kid a break with a nice dream.

After contemplating for a while, Bill shrugged. _Eh. Why not?_ He was just killing time anyway, and time was something of a game to him when he occasionally gave it notice due to his uncountable age.

Bill drifted down to the girl’s level, leaned in close to her face and touched her hot forehead. He could already tell that her mind was wary and weak, notably from the physical strain and her high fever over the course of twelve hours. She also wasn’t fully asleep yet, only swimming in a haze of worried thoughts and scenarios caught between the layers of reality and her entrance to the Mindscape.

_No. No sleep._

_Sick._

_Too hot._

_I hate this. Leave me alone._

_Dizzy._

_Hurts._

_Please, don’t make me go to a hospital. I don’t wanna…_

_don’t wanna…._

_Don’t…_

_No…_

Despite being tempted of listening to more of the child’s miserable thoughts, Bill quietly shushed her. Beatrice groaned in response, her mouth curling into a grimace while she shuffled and shivered under her blankets. To Beatrice, Bill’s flickering non-corporeal presence was nothing more than a simple itch in her subconscious.

He rolled his eye. _Yeesh. All this stress over a simple stomach bug._ Humans were so skittish when it came to their health.

The demon put his tiny hands to the sides of Beatrice’s temples and blue flames gently sparked from his fingertips.

**_“Sleep.”_ **

The girl suddenly let out something between a yawn and a small gasp…before her erratic eyelids suddenly stopped twitching. Then Bill pulled away and watched Beatrice’s head gently lean to the side, her strained face immediately softening. The demon’s command echoed through her tranquil mind like a droning lullaby and shooed away the cluttered chatters of her inner thoughts to the back of her mind. A small smile slowly formed on the girl’s lips and then started to breathe at a normal, slow rate. Satisfied, Bill snuggled himself into one of her arms under a blanket.

“Sweet dreams, kid,” Bill purred.

He shut his eye and his sigil lit up once again on Beatrice’s forehead. Light wisps of gold energy flickered from under her eyelids, sending her deep into a very calming dream filled with golden sands and three suns which peculiarly looked like ever watchful eyes…

▲▲▲

A couple of days passed when Beatrice slowly began to recover. She would sleep long parts of the day, only waking up to eat (very little) or do small tasks. It was on the third day when she felt well enough to walk around the house and join Aunt Vanessa downstairs for some quiet time.

What was interesting about Vanessa, not only from her bubbly personality or fashion sense, was her beliefs. She sometimes talked about cosmic influences and how life could revolve around chance. She read horoscopes, palms and tea leaves, and played with tarot cards and other fortune telling tools. It was a little side job which gave her extra pocket money beside her customer service desk job.

The two spent that late afternoon in the living room playing cards. Vanessa was teaching her niece how to play Solitaire, but the game soon fell short as Beatrice just gave up on the fourth re-shuffle of the deck and wanted to play Go Fish. A couple more card games passed until Beatrice was bored again. She wanted to watch a movie, but Vanessa urged to do something productive before dinner.

That’s when Beatrice asked to learn how to read tea leaves, taking up on her aunt’s past offer now that the worst of her illness had passed. Vanessa complied with a smile, warmed up a pot of jasmine oolong and poured a small cup.

The tea tasted a little too flowery for Beatrice’s inexperienced palate, but she took it anyway since it was warm and soothing down her aching throat. She was instructed to drink all of it, only to leave a couple of drops left so the leaves could settle at the bottom of the cup. When the two finished, Vanessa pulled out her pocket index book of tea leaf signs from her purse. She pointed out the crescent shape in her mug.

“So…I got the moon,” she noted, flipping through the pages until she found the correct index and confidently smiled. “’Might get some good news or some extra money soon. Could come in handy. I have been wanting to replace my mattress for a while.” She poured herself another cup for the tea from the pot. “Now, what did you get, honeybee?”

Beatrice squinted, turning her cup a few times until she saw the leaves finally settle. She flinched for a moment before handing the cup to Vanessa for a clearer inspection.

“A triangle… That means you’re going to have some good luck or you’re going to have a fortunate meeting soon.”

“Oh…good.” Beatrice nodded, turning over the thought of Bill as being good luck one over for good measure. He did show up when she was in distress, but did that count as luck? After all, he did say he was watching her. More coincidence? Maybe it wasn’t Bill. Perhaps it was a sign that she was just going to be get over her flu sooner than she thought.

She shook her head. This was getting ridiculous. She was getting worked up over a _triangle_. Well, a _demon_ triangle, but to that point-

“Oh, hang on. You’ve got another symbol here.” Vanessa tilted the cup and peered inside again. “Ooh! It’s a man!” She laughed. “Seems like you’re _definitely_ going to have a visitor! Do you have a secret crush that I should know about?”

Beatrice snorted while Vanessa playfully elbowed her. “Ew, no!” As if she had a crush on anyone. Boys were gross.

“Well, in either case, you’re going to have _someone_ showing up at your door soon enough.” 

“Maybe, my dad will show up to my birthday party?” Beatrice mused.

Vanessa pursed her lips, cold on the idea but tried not to let it show. “Hmm…who knows?” She took a long sip from her cup and then decided to change the subject. “Speaking of your party, your mom mentioned you hadn’t talked to her on what you want to do. It’s getting pretty close.”

Beatrice groaned, . “I know. I know. I’m still thinking about it. I can’t decide between all these ideas and -” Like someone had slapped her forehead, Sara’s suggestion suddenly appeared at the front of her mind, clear as day.

“Magic.”

“Magic?” Vanessa repeated.

Beatrice paused, reading her thought over again for good measure before she slowly nodded. “Yeah. Magic.” 

“Alright. Now what would we go about with that?”

“Well, we could do tea readings.”

“Hmm…good start. How about a big fortune telling tent?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! And we could do a scavenger hunt and wand making and face paint-”

“Woah there, Bee! You’re buzzing up a brainstorm here! I got to write this all down!” Vanessa grabbed the pad of paper which posed as the home’s grocery list off the fridge and fished around in a drawer for a pen. She quickly scrawled all her niece’s ideas while the girl lost herself in a cascade of party ideas.

 “And there could be a real magician there, too!” Beatrice added.

“There’s an idea.” _A very expensive idea_.

 “He could do all sorts of tricks. Not just the small easy ones, but all the big, _big_ ones!” Beatrice spread her arms wide to accentuate her suggestion. “Like those guys in Las Vegas with the tigers or that street magician on TV!”

“Seems you’ve got one heck of a list there, girl.”

Beatrice’s smile faltered slightly. “Too much?”

Vanessa put down the pen, put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and looked at her straight in the eye. “You can _never_ dream too much, honeybee. Never, _never_ settle for less. Got it?”

Beatrice nodded and gave a gap toothed smile at her godmother. “’Kay.”

“Well, I’m sure your mom will be very happy for all these amazing ideas. Did you ever think of being a party planner when you grow up?”

The girl scratched her head in thought. “No, but it would be kind of fun. I think I want to be a writer when I grow up, so when my books get published, I will be famous and get movies made from my books, but I would tell the movie people how it _should_ be made. No cutting corners.”

“Sounds like you’re feeling better,” Vanessa noted, touching the girl’s forehead with the back of her hand. “Still a little bit warm, but most of your fever’s gone, and you’ve been eating some normal food again.”

Beatrice sighed. “Yeah…”

“You got to go back to school sometime, hon.”

“I know, but-”

Vanessa held up a hand. “No need to tell me the details. I know the whole thing.”

“Then, what am I supposed to do? I think maybe it’s because her parents pay the teachers extra money that she gets away with everything.”

“Well, Bee, you can only do so much. I can’t say that it’s the best thing, but I think you just need to wait it out.” Vanessa got up and started clearing the table. “She’ll grow bored of you eventually.”

“Well, it’s not fair.”

Vanessa clicked her tongue – an odd tick when she was frustrated. “Well, as bad and cliché it is to say, life isn’t fair.”

Beatrice slumped in her chair and crossed her arms tight against her chest. “Well, someone should teach her a _life_ lesson.”

“I think you already did,” Vanessa said, pointing out Beatrice’s still scuffed up face. “Can you teach me some of your moves?” She stood in the middle of the kitchen, gesturing to the girl. “Come on! I wanna see you float like a butterfly and sting like a bee!”

Beatrice beamed, jumped off her chair and came charging at Vanessa with a roar as she tried to (playfully) punch her down to the floor. Vanessa pretended to crumple to the ground, clutching her giggling niece in a big bear hug in one arm while smacking her free hand on the floor.

“No more! No more!” she mockingly moaned. “You beat me. You’re the reigning champ! You’re the Queen Bee!”

“Heck yeah, I am!” Beatrice cheered, pumping her left fist in the air. “And don’t you forget it!”

The two spent several minutes on the kitchen floor in laughter, just hugging each other tightly while Vanessa planted raspberries on her goddaughter’s cheeks. At one point she stopped, noticing something flicker in the shadows in the far right corner of the kitchen. Something…triangular, but it was hazy to pin point under the bright lights.

“You okay, Aunt Vanessa?” Beatrice asked.

They both sat up off the floor. Vanessa squinted again to make sure she wasn’t crazy, but the shadow had gone when she probably blinked.

“I thought….” She stared off into space for a moment, before turning back to the girl and putting on a semi-fake smile. “Nothing. I think I’m getting your cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeesh, it's been a while since I've updated. I think I rewrote this chapter twice while bridging the events which are to come. Not to worry though, there should be another update sometime by the end of this week. Thanks to everyone who has been sticking with this story so far and all the lovely kudos! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time...to party! Surprises are in store for the birthday girl...

**_Two Weeks Later_ **

It was a mildly warm and cloudy Saturday afternoon when Beatrice’s eighth birthday party took place at the local community center.

Beatrice felt like she was going to explode from excitement as she went to greet the guests at the front door. She was especially eager to show off her new outfit she picked out for the occasion from her birthday shopping trip the day before (saving that chore money really did pay off in the end, though her mother did pay for a portion of the clothes).

She was sporting her own magician inspired outfit: a short-sleeved white blouse with a clip-on black bowtie, black vest and sparkly black skirt, white stockings and black Mary Janes. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, wavy ponytail and wrapped up with a galaxy patterned scrunchie. A black and red lined cape was tied around her neck, and a tiny black sequined top hat perched at the top of her head. If anyone didn’t know any better, she could have been a stage magician…well, maybe a tiny, but adorable, magician’s assistant. Still, she looked the part, and she couldn’t be happier.

A total of fifteen kids showed up at 12pm, boys and girls - including one Laura May Benson.

Today, she was clad in an ornate outfit comprised of a fuchsia and rose pink flowery skirt, a pale pink tank top and a hot pink cardigan. Her blonde hair was tied up in fluffy pig tails with sparkly pink bows, bouncing as she strolled through the doors with her light-up Barbie running shoes. She didn’t even bother to look the birthday girl in the eye as she dumped a rather small (and light) purple gift bag into her hands and walked off to join the members of her circle of friends Beatrice had invited over.

There were party stations set up around the main hall: a craft table, a poster of a dragon missing its tail, a fortune telling table hosted by Aunt Vanessa and a close friend of hers under the name of ‘Madame Tracy’, face painting, the gift table and a snack table. Beatrice was already feeling hungry when she saw that some of the guests had brought along shopping bags filled with extra junk food. Julia already had her hands full with what she had gathered, before the kids had started grabbing handfuls of chips out of the bowls and cans of soda from open boxes.

Half an hour later, the party was in full swing. Kids took turns at playing pin the tail on the dragon, while others rotated between the makeup, craft and fortune telling stalls. Jimmy Green’s mother, who worked at a party supply company, unexpectedly supplied a piñata. It provided some short entertainment for a good twenty minutes, before Hannah landed the killing blow with the baseball bat (thanks to her previous two summers worth of experience playing Minor League). The rainbow shooting star expelled its sweet inner treasures onto the floor and the children went wild.

Beatrice let her friend have all of her Laffy Taffy, while Hannah gave Beatrice her share of her Bazooka bubble gum. Beatrice couldn’t get a single bubble out of the five minutes the gum’s flavor had lasted, despite Sara’s careful instructions and proud demonstration.

After a well-deserved (and delicious) pizza break, it was finally present time. The kids were ushered to the center of the room and sat on the floor in a circle, while the birthday girl sat in the middle. Their names were drawn from her top hat, and each time a gift was passed to her by the respective invitee.

Her mother’s gift was a magician’s starter kit – the exact one that Beatrice had wanted since their last trip to the toy store. Aunt Vanessa’s gift was a pack of tarot cards (and a promise of lessons on her next visit). Sara’s was a personalized journal with a lock and a pack of gel pens (for starting her story writing). Hannah’s gift was a bundle of various ‘magic’-themed superhero comic books (all handpicked by her brother and approved by her mother): Wonder Woman, Zatanna, Thor and Doctor Strange. Jimmy’s gift was a pack of different ring puzzles and a Rubix cube.

Beatrice actually gave a little squeal of delight she pulled out a Mickey Mouse wizard hat (complete with Mickey ears) from the gigantic gift bag that Emma had dropped off on her way to her study session.

Laura May’s gift was just a twenty-five dollar gift card to Barnes and Noble. The children held their breaths for some kind of awful reaction, but Beatrice was actually more impressed by the monetary size of the gift than the lazy thoughtlessness of it all.

“Now, I can get _The Beginner’s Guidebook to Magic_!” she happily exclaimed. “Thanks, Laura May!”

“You’re…welcome,” Laura May answered, pulling off the fakest smile of her life, clamped teeth and all. She felt like she had swallowed broken glass and wanted to physically be sick.

Of course, her parents had picked out the gift. The conversation had been almost non-existent. All she said was Beatrice was a ‘bookworm’, and had let her father take care of it.

It was too bad her parents had confiscated her exploding joke pens before she had arrived, after they had found a blue stain on the floor in the back of the car. She would have liked to have seen Beatrice’s outfit been ruined with permanent ink, and her face stained blue for weeks after opening the caps. If she had her way, Laura May would have put a live wasp’s nest in a box and shake it up, before she would have excused herself to use the bathroom and avoid being stung.

This lame birthday party was torture, and all she could do was sulk in silence. What she wouldn’t give to give Roadkill Queen a show of her own…

▲▲▲

As the children played their second round of musical chairs, Julia peered at her watch with a frown. The magician was supposed to have arrived over forty-five minutes ago. She assumed that he had gotten himself lost or was still trying to find a parking spot. She was about to call the party agency when she heard a knock at the main hall entrance.

Sighing in relief, she walked over and opened the door…only to scream and stumbled back in a startled surprise. A tall, blonde man stood in the doorway, grinning wildly like a maniac. He let loose a wild fit of unsettling laughter, clutching his chest in hysterics at the woman’s frazzled state.

Julia, however, didn’t appreciate the scare and glared at him. “You’re late.”

“Only fashionably,” the man said simply, dusting off his shoulders. “Had to stop by the cleaners.” His voice was boisterous and a touch nasally. Julia could have sworn it even _echoed_ …well, with the thin acoustics in the walls of the place, anything was possible.

She gave the man another glance over and paused. “You don’t sound like the person I spoke to on the phone.”

“Oh, Rupert couldn’t make it, I’m afraid.” the man answered. “Last minute replacement call. Had something to do with winning the lottery. You wouldn’t _believe_ the chances.” He chuckled and gracefully tipped his slender-looking top hat and bowed, flashing a handsome pearly white grin. There an odd twinkle in his eye too, almost like starlight.

Strangely, all the anger that Julia had bottled up suddenly melted away when she saw that smile. She actually _blushed_ when he playfully winked at her. No one had ever called her ‘ma’am’ before. How delightfully strange...

She cleared her throat. “Um, yes. Yes, well…we were just about to bring out the cake, but since you’re here, we can put that on hold until after the show. Do you need a lot of time to set up?” She peered behind him to spot a couple of large boxes and a rolling suitcase.

“Oh, it won’t take that long. Give or take…” He pulled out a gold pocket watch from inside his jacket, gave it a quick glance over, and then pocketed it with a satisfied smile. “Ten…fifteen minutes, tops. Honestly, I’ve done this gig so many times, I could do it in my sleep.”

 ▲▲▲

It was after losing her seat on the fourth round of musical chairs did Beatrice sneak away into the kitchens to get a cold soda from the cooler. Being the host at your party was thirsty work. After succeeding in finding a ginger ale, she cracked open the can and took a long sip, not once noticing the back door open or the quiet tapping of expensive shoes creeping up behind her.

“Well, well, well. You sure know how to throw a party, you busy little Bee!”

Beatrice was so startled that she choked on her drink. That voice! It couldn’t be!

She darted around…only to spot a young man in his late twenties, towering over her by a little over six feet. He was peculiarly thin; not so malnourished, but more in the category of gangly scarecrow. He was dressed in a traditional magician’s outfit: black slacks, shiny black dress shoes, a white button up dress shirt and a black vest.

His golden yellow tailcoat stood out the most from his whole ensemble. The cuffs of his sleeves, as well as his pointed jacket lapels, were embroidered with a brick pattern in solid gold thread and tipped with gold triangle buttons. Beatrice spotted random unrecognizable symbols on the lining on his tails poking between the opening of his legs, most of which could only be seen with the odd flicker of light before they vanished back into the starry lining.

The man’s bronze face was long and narrow, and was lightly peppered with dark freckles, especially on his pointed nose. His wavy straw colored hair was casually combed and spiked up into a messy look, gently melding into his sideburns and matching an equally tidy wedge-shaped goatee. His right eye was covered by black triangular eyepatch while his other eye was…strange. Beatrice thought it was a trick of the light or the shadow from the man’s tall, slender black top hat he had carefully perched on his head.

The stranger’s left eye shone gold, widened and melted into a glassy yellow with one slit pupil staring straight at her.

Beatrice could have sworn that she felt her jaw drop to the floor.

_“Bill?”_

Bill Cipher grinned and smugly pulled his bowtie tight with both of his black gloved hands. “You were expecting Harry Houdini?”

Beatrice was at a loss for words, looking the demon up and down over and over again, drinking in all his features. “B-but you…you’re a…a…”

“A…?” Bill let the letter fall off his tongue in mock anticipation. He admitted that the child’s reaction was absolutely priceless.

She had to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t another dream. “…Human!”

“Give the girl a prize!” Bill gave a twirl, almost tripping over his long legs. Beatrice spotted a wide sparkly eye, resembling the one in Bill’s triangular form, sewn dead center in the back of the coat as well as more gold brick embroidery etched on the tails.

“But…how can you be here? In real life?”  Beatrice asked, already testing to make sure Bill was actually solid by poking at his arm. He was real, alright.

“Well, as much as I would love to parade around here in my real form, I had to conjure up a flesh suit to blend in with the locals.” He crouched down at the little girl’s level, cocking his head to one side with a suddenly sharp toothed grin. “But that little trick is a trade secret. Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll show it to you when you’re older.”

He laughed and sharply pinched the girl’s cheeks, much to her discomfort. “By the way, you look _adorable_! I can tell that I’ve been a good influence on you.” He gestured to her bowtie, but then grimaced upon further inspection. “But a clip-on? Hmm…well, I guess it’s a start.”

Despite her aching cheeks, Beatrice couldn’t help but giggle. “What are you even doing here?”

Bill picked himself off the floor and spread his arms wide. “I’m your entertainment for the afternoon, kiddo!”

Beatrice’s jaw dropped open again. _“What?_ B-but-”

“I did say I cleared my schedule for you, after all. Don’t tell me you’re starting to have second thoughts about our little pact, already?” A flash from Bill’s eye almost seemed to make his last remark sound like a threat.

Beatrice timidly shook her head. “N-no! It’s just I wasn’t expecting… _this_.”

“That’s what a _surprise_ is, silly!”

He turned on his heels to peer down the hall to witness a crowd of children dancing around some chairs to music, while some were still stuffing their faces with slices of semi-cold pizza and overly processed junk food. The adults were talking amongst themselves while they cleared the remaining tables at the other end of the space, while still keeping a watchful eye on the party guests.

“So you went with the magic theme after all, huh?” he mused. “Shame I wasn’t your party planner. I throw some _monster_ bashes back at my place.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Beatrice inquired, crossing her arms. The demon seemed to have a picky comment for everything.  

“Personally? Too tacky. I mean: ‘pin the tail on the dragon’?” He sniffed disdainfully. “ _Please_. Give me ‘pin the tentacles on the sleeping multi-limbed nameless ancient horror’ any day. No, what this party needs is a more ‘ _oomf_ ’.”

“Like what?”

Bill rubbed his chin in mock thought. “Let’s see…I’d dim the lights, blacken the windows and add lots of candles – unscented, of course. Can’t stand perfume. Then, I would think painting some summoning circles on the floor would be in order, bring along a couple of goats, some sacrificial daggers…” A pause. “Keep the snack table. It can double as an altar. Maybe let a family of eye-bats roost on the ceiling for security, with a disco ball and throw in some golden statues of me in every corner...and a throne would be _perfect_...”

Another pause…until the demon stopped and giggled, elbowing the somewhat confused girl perhaps a little too hard in the arm. “But hey, parents spoil all the fun, am I right?”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Beatrice said, gingerly rubbing her right arm. “And anyway, I was the one who came up with most of the stuff.”

Bill shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

He reached over her shoulder and fished out a can Pitt cola from the cooler. Beatrice just watched the demon’s face beam in childish glee as he popped open the tab and downed the fizzy drink in ten seconds flat. He smiled, not wickedly like Beatrice had seen numerous times before, more like a reaction of a child discovering a new favorite taste in their mouth.

“ _Man_ , I missed human soda!” Bill smacked his lips and licked any remaining bubbly sweet liquid away from his teeth. He tossed the can to Beatrice and suddenly belched, reflexively clapping a hand to his mouth in surprise. Beatrice had to hide a laugh while she watched the puzzled demon try to process what kind of noise popped out of his human throat.

“You know,” Beatrice said, placing the can in a garbage bag. “My Aunt Vanessa read my tea leaves a while ago and I saw you in my cup! Well, a _triangle_.”

Bill stopped mid-slurp of his second soda and peered at his contractor with mock interest. “Did you now? Fancy that.” He made a mental note to visit her ‘aunt’ later as he finished off the drink and passed the empty to the girl. “So, you still have that coin?”

Beatrice nodded. “It’s been hot all day, but I don’t know why. I just had this odd feeling today that I should carry it with me.” She fished out the drawstring bag from her vest pocket and opened it. The coin was nowhere to be found. Beatrice checked her other pocket. Still nothing.

A growing sense of panic spread across her face.

“Oh no. I…I just had it on me. I’ve been keeping good care of it! Honest!”

Bill’s eye lowered. A red light angrily sparked against his pale visage while Beatrice scanned the ground around them. Honestly, you entrust a kid to do one simple thing…

Beatrice suddenly stopped and stared back at Bill, if only a little worried. Judging by the lingering snarl curving at the corners of his mouth, he looked like he was trying to contain something that was itching under his eyepatch.

“Wait, Bill. Can I ask you something?” She gestured for him to lean in close.

“What is it?” he asked, a little too hotly. If this kid was going to ask for a distraction while she looked around…

“What’s behind your ear?”

Bill blinked, suddenly puzzled as Beatrice reached behind his left ear and pulled her hand back. He caught a flash a gold at the corner of his vision before Beatrice held the object in front of his face.

There, being held between the girl’s index finger and thumb, was the coin.  

“See?” Beatrice said proudly, showing off a gapped toothy grin. “‘Told you I kept good care of it.”

Bill said nothing at first, only blankly staring at the little girl with his mouth slightly hanging open. Then, he smiled and a put a hand through his hair. A soft chuckle quickly grew into an obnoxious, if not strangely bubbly, laugh. In fact, he laughed so much that he accidentally fell backwards, but the demon paid no mind as he continued giggling on the cold linoleum floor, holding his sides and kicking his feet.

“You had me going there for a second there, kid!” he roared. “I _really_ must be rubbing off on you! How long were you practicing that little parlor trick?”

Beatrice sheepishly shrugged. “A little while.” She could feel the coin feeling very warm in her hand, probably because of it being in such close proximity to Bill. As soon as he calmed down and picked himself up, she politely pressed the coin into his palm. Bill eyed it gleefully as he let it roll around between his fingers, nodding absent mindedly himself.

“What was so important about that thing, anyway?” Beatrice asked.

Bill put a finger to his lips. “That’s a secret.”

Beatrice was about to ask further until she heard her mother calling out for her down the hallway. “I better go.”

“Alright. I’d better get ready anyway. Don’t want to keep the audience waiting.”

After Bill watched the little girl scamper away down the hallway, his attention turned to the coin he was still cupping in his hands. He flicked it high into the air, watching it flip before he tilted his head back and caught it on his tongue. He swallowed it and his eye opened up wide, glowing brightly.

His body stiffened, feeling a tingling sensation as metal slid down his throat and plunged into his stomach. A rush of energy suddenly flew through the demon’s body, sending jolts of white hot fire to course through his limbs. It felt like he was in a race car; the pure rush of adrenaline pleasantly pumping through his veins. His mind buzzed wildly, hearing multiple conversations going on in his head at once while he gave into untainted pleasure of being bathed in supernatural power, reshaping himself into the physical plane while still clinging to this temporary body.

Bill Cipher grinned madly as he looked down at his twitching fingers. He curled his hands once and as he opened them, blue flames ignited and spread over his gloves, never once feeling a burning sensation through the leather or skin, just the familiar tingle of chaotic demonic magic. He burst into a blissful cackle, his exposed eye darkening blue as sparks bounced off his eyelashes.

He unexpectedly sensed a presence behind him and slowly turned around on his heels. It was a chubby looking woman dressed in a baby blue jumpsuit, looking around her late-forties, with long wavy dark brown hair tied up in a violet headscarf.

 _The cleaning lady. Of course._ Bill sighed.

Her eyes went wide, spotting the flames the man was sporting in his hands along his creepy, almost demonic, demeanor. She was about to scream when Bill quickly waved his hand and the woman’s mouth clamped shut, much to her horror. Bill pointed at her, gesturing to come closer and her legs moved on their own, while her own mind was commanding them to run the other way with no avail.

She stopped in front of the demon and he peered over her with one burning blue eye, now turning red. He pressed a flaming finger to her forehead and her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Bill’s voice lowered into a reverberating growl.

**_“All of this is a dream. You’ll remember nothing of this. Go about your business.”_ **

As he pulled away, the blue fire vanished into thin air and his eye returned to normal. (Well, as normal as it was to him.) He snapped his fingers and the woman blinked several times before her consciousness drifted back into reality, if not a little disorientated.

Bill coughed, straightening his top hat. “Excuse me.”

The woman’s eyes snapped open. “Oh! Sorry, sir.”

She hastily parted away from the man and Bill swaggered down the hall, whistling the familiar tune of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Witchcraft’ to himself. (He to admit that the guy could carry a catchy tune all the way until the end. Shame about his one sequenced lifespan.)

The tails of his jacket eerily floated a bit more on their own. The eye on his back glinted mischievously, almost like it was alive. Bill let loose another excited cackle, snapping his fingers and a black cane materialized from his right palm. He twirled it around in his hands for good measure like a baton, caught up in the wondrous vibrating mood he was feeling at this moment. Every little spring in his step looked _and_ felt like he was walking on air.

He gave a low whistle and the boxes that were held up in storage suddenly shook and rattled to life.

“Alright. _Showtime_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, this update took longer than expected. (Lots and lots of rewrites.) Sorry about the wait, you guys. I had a lot on my plate this past month with moving to my new place and transitioning with a new job. Not to mention, budgets and bills (the non-triangular kind). Being an independent adult is hard work. 
> 
> So yeah, the reveal! (How Bill got a human form will be up to your imagination, kiddies! No explanations will be made here.)  
> But boy, I never realized how much I love writing Bill and his all his snarky lines. "Weirdmageddon" really got my creative juices flowing again. I wanted him to be such a showoff around Beatrice, being that she's a child and she practically looks up to him as the coolest, but scariest friend she has ever met. (Plus, kids are pretty gullible and easily amazed - at least in Bill's mindset. A flashy costume does the trick.) 
> 
> As for progress, the next chapter is about 75% done, which means now that the final Chapter count for "Tooth Fairy" is going to be about 7-8 chapters, including the Epilogue. (Oh, yes. THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE.) 
> 
> I also wanted to say an extra thanks to everyone who has recently commented or left kudos on this story! It really means a lot to me that people are so interested in my writing! And to all, if you want to do any fanart or anything related of the kind, feel free to do so! (I would love to put illustrations in the chapters, like a real children's chapter book).
> 
> Also, if you caught a familiar Neil Gaiman book reference in this chapter, congrats! You've got wonderful taste in books. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like dramatic tension before a big performance...

The children were escorted to the back gallery by Aunt Vanessa while the magician set up his equipment on the makeshift rental stage. The early May weather was pleasantly warm and allowed for the guests to get some fresh air, not to mention squeezing in a game of Red Rover. Soon after the game had ended, they agreed to take a short break before playing in one more round before the magic show.

Beatrice took some time to thank each of the guests for the lovely gifts. (She got a fist bump by Jimmy, instead of a hug, which suited her fine since she knew boys weren’t big fans of hugs...at least in front of girls.) She saw Laura May sitting on the balcony with one of her friends, a Hispanic girl with a long dark braid and a rose printed white dress named Lucy. They were both chatting amongst themselves while drinking soda from red plastic cups.

Lucy poked her friend when she saw Beatrice waving to them with a big smile on her spotty face. Laura May groaned, almost wanting to throw her soda in the birthday girl’s face and telling her off, but she remembered that there were adults present so she stowed away the scheme for later.

She made an excuse to Lucy to get her a glass of water and her friend quickly hurried away. Lucy shoved Beatrice aside without even an “excuse me” and turned around the next corner to search for a water fountain and a clean plastic cup. Beatrice gingerly rubbed her shoulder, but shrugged the gesture off like brushing off a fly. She walked up to her schoolyard bully, who was sitting on a white plastic patio chair with her cup of soda in hand like a queen on a throne and accompanied by a snotty disapproving glare.

“What do _you_ want?” Laura May snapped icily.

 _Payback, you snotty, stuck up, prissy little rich brat…_ was what she really wanted to say, but that wouldn’t been nice. That wasn’t really her style.

Instead, Beatrice just gave a genuine sincere smile. “I just wanted to say thank you for the gift, and for coming to my party. I really appreciate it.”

Laura May rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I didn’t even want to come to your stupid party in the first place. My dumb parents made me come.”

“Well…I’m happy that you came anyway,” Beatrice said, smiling eagerly.

Laura May said nothing, only taking a sip of soda and trying to see if Lucy was back with her water.

“Are you excited for the magic show?” Beatrice asked. “My mom hired a really cool guy. He was really excited to work!”

“It’s not that clown, is it?” Laura May’s eyes went wild with a dreadful thought, her grip on her cup slackening ever so slightly. “B-because if he’s here, I’ll scream really loud and- and-!”

“Oh, no, no, no! Definitely _not_ a clown. He’s a real magician!”

Laura May took a minute to process the answer, let out a sigh of relief, but then pouted.

“Well…good. Good. That clown has a restraining order, anyway.” She took a shaky sip. Beatrice just stood there hands behind her back and stared at her. She was even still wearing that goofy grin. She suddenly flinched as Laura May slammed the cup onto the ground, the remnants splattering and trickling across the wooden planks.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing.”

“What’s _wrong_ with you?”

“Oh…I’m just excited, that’s all.” Beatrice jumped up and down, laughing as she did. “Maybe I had too much soda.”

Laura May didn’t know what to make of the freckled girl bouncing around in a circle, other than giving a look of disgust. “You’re _so_ weird.”

Beatrice stopped jumping. “Yeah, so? You have a problem with weird?”

“I have a _problem_ with you being in my _face_ , dead girl,” Laura May hissed, sliding off her chair and stomping over to her prey, her light up shoes flashing magenta upon each step. “I have a _problem_ of why every time I do something to you, you don’t do anything and you just… _ignore me_!” She was at least six inches taller than Beatrice, and it showed as she glowered down over her like a hawk.

“I was surprised that you actually fought me,” she sneered. “I didn’t think I’d ever crack you…”

Beatrice pressed up against a wooden column, her ponytail was scrunched up so high that it looked like a hairy horn had sprouted from her head.

“But then when you came back to school, you just _ignored me again_!”

“You don’t like being ignored?” Beatrice argued, gently pushing Laura May back just enough so that she had some breathing space. “Welcome to my world.”

The blonde was almost taken back for a second before she pushed the birthday girl back into the column.

“You humiliated me in front of all of my friends!” she spat. “You ruined my birthday!”

“I keep telling you it was an accident!”

Laura May grabbed Beatrice by the front of her shirt and pulled her close. “Listen here, Holloway. _I’m_ the one who calls the shots around here, not you. You may have your stupid little birthday party fun right now, but I can take it away from you. I can get away with _anything_ because my daddy is rich and my mom works for a big lawyer. All I have to do is scream, make a big scene, and say that you hit me again while being unsupervised…”

It was then Beatrice immediately realized that she couldn’t see Aunt Vanessa anywhere. She didn’t see her mother either. They must have gone on the side of the building or back inside or whatever reason she could think up at the moment, most likely making sure all the children were safe and in the same area.

Beatrice suddenly felt like she was on the verge of an asthma attack. Her chest was tight and she felt her tiny heart was practically pounding against her rib cage like an animal seeking escape from its tiny prison. “You wouldn’t!”

“Wanna bet?” Laura May took a deep breath and opened her mouth, watching her victim panic as she…

Stopped and laughed. She watched deliciously as the birthday girl struggled to calm down and piece together what had just happened, until her face twisted to hold back tears, trying not to show any fear in front of her tormentor and failing miserably. There she was: the same whimpering girl that she knew and loved to torture.

“You know,” Laura May continued, her blue eyes burning into Beatrice like ice. “I was really starting to think that you really were _dead_. I thought you didn’t feel anything.” She flicked Beatrice’s nose, which got the girl to let out a small cry and clasped it. “Guess I was wrong. Then again, that’s why you have so much dirt on your face. Why don’t you just crawl back to the cemetery and play in the dirt with that dumb rabbit, since he’s probably the only _real_ friend you have without feeling sorry for you.”

For a minute, it looked like Beatrice was about to break down and cry; her eyes were scrunched up in fear and her lower lip was twitching, ready to sob...

And then something changed.

Laura May thought she saw a twinkle of gold reflected off Beatrice’s watery eyes. She turned around for one second, thinking it was a reflection of the sun from the window but remembered that there was a roof on the balcony. When she turned back, all the fear from Beatrice’s visage had seemingly melted away with her non-existing tears. Her dark peppered face had softened into a calm state. It could have been mistaken for a blank mask hiding back waves of escalating anger from its oppressor.

“What did you get in your tea leaves?”

Laura May blinked, absolutely stunned to see that not only was Beatrice not afraid but it seemed like their entire confrontation was just an act. “W-what?”

“At the fortune teller’s tent. What did you see in your teacup?”

Laura May took a few steps back, confused and scared at the same time. “Why are you-?”

“Just…curious,” Beatrice answered slowly, looking like she had more on her mind than what her voice displayed.

Despite being confused over Beatrice’s complete mood swing, the blonde decided to go along with the question. “I got a frog and some bagpipes or something like that. That lady – Tracy, or whatever – told me to be worried, since something bad or sad was going to happen to me. I didn’t believe her though.” She blew a lock of hair out her round face. “Unlike you, I don’t believe in magic, especially if you’re trying to convince me that seeing pictures in a teacup are supposed to tell my future.” She snorted. “As if.”

“Well, maybe you’ll change your mind when you see the show,” Beatrice said, putting on a smile that was as eerily cheerful as it was mischievously innocent while she swung her arms at her sides.

The two girls began to see that the children were slowly starting to walk back towards the doors, eagerly awaiting to be seated and ready to see the magician in action.

Laura May glared at Beatrice, who was about to stroll past her before she grabbed her right wrist.

“I don’t know what kind of funny stuff you’re pulling, Holloway, but it’s not gonna work on me. Remember, what I said about-”

“About what, dear?”

The blonde immediately let go of Beatrice once she heard the stern tone of Vanessa from behind her. She bore a long wide turquoise spring dress with a white lily pattern, matching calf-high Romanesque sandals and an orchid-colored scarf tied around her neck. Her hair was made up into tiny braids and pulled back into one massive ponytail. Large gold hoops swung off her ears while she peered down at the two girls with hands on her hips.

Laura May patted the birthday girl on the shoulder while putting on a fake smile. “Um…I was just talking about what seats would be the best to see the magic show.”

Vanessa clicked her tongue. Her goddaughter immediately knew that she wasn’t falling for any of the pigtailed girl's lies.

“For you, dear,” Vanessa said firmly. “I would suggest the back. ‘Might get a better view of the whole stage. You don’t have any problems seeing, do you?”

Laura May shook her head, afraid to look away from the stunning, but dangerous Black woman who was gently scolding her. “No, miss.”

“Good. Now, get a move on.”

Vanessa jerked her head toward the doors and without another word, Laura May ran inside.

When the girl was out of earshot, Vanessa tiled her head up and sighed, as if she was trying to get someone in heaven to pay attention to her frustration.

“Christ almighty, that child’s a menace,” she breathed. She turned her attention back to her goddaughter, already observing that her wrists were fine and not broken. “Are you alright, Bee? I didn’t see the whole thing because there were these two kids fooling around in the parking lot, but if she did something-”

“I’m okay, Aunt Vanessa,” Beatrice said, fixing her vest. Through the door, she could see the stage, all adorned with objects of various sizes and shapes covered with black sheets.

It could have been the trick of the light to some, but Beatrice saw a brief glance of something yellow poking behind a tall box. She smiled, perhaps a little too eagerly, and straightened her bowtie.

“Better than okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dramatic buildup? More dramatic buildup.
> 
> Yes, this was originally supposed to be a lot shorter and was a follow up with what Bill is planning for the magic show, but I realized I hadn't fleshed out Laura May enough and made her a little too like (Season 1) Pacifica or just gave her passing descriptions of why she's being so mean. I felt like one more final confrontation between Beatrice and her bully would solidify what's in store for her by Bill's hand (or slight of hand? *wink wink*). 
> 
> I promise, no more teasing, my loyal readers. The show will go on (very soon) in the next chapter. 
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the show begin!~  
> OR  
> "Ain't no party like a Bill Cipher [hosted] party because a Bill Cipher [hosted] party is not bound by your typical 'normal' dimensional barriers and child safety and thus, don't stop."

While the children had been out, the entire community center ballroom had been transformed into a makeshift theatre. Fold out plastic chairs had been organized into two circular rows on each side and a part in the middle from the six inch high platform stage. The adults decided to help with the rest of the cleanup in the neighboring kitchen, leaving the magician to his work in keeping the kids busy until it was time to sing happy birthday and roll out the cake. 

Beatrice, Sara and Hannah sat in the front left row, one friend on each side of Beatrice, waiting patiently for the show to start. They all giggled to themselves while they pointed out all the objects on the stage, shrouded with long thick black sheets from prying eyes. 

“Woah, look at that one!” Hannah said, pointing at a tall and slender box in the far right corner. “You could fit a whole giraffe in there!”

“No, you couldn’t,” Sara argued. “You couldn’t even fit a giraffe in this _room_!”

Hannah playfully shoved Sara’s shoulder. “A _baby_ giraffe, duh!”

“I don’t think the magician would have one in his show,” Beatrice said confidently. “Doesn’t seem magic-y enough, you know? Probaby woud be expensive too...”

“Well, if _you’re_ such a magic expert, then what do you think the guy’s got hiding under those sheets?” Sara asked curiously.

Before Beatrice could answer, she was cut off by a sudden loud explosion of glittery blue smoke from center stage, sprinkling the front row with metallic confetti while the rest of the children cried out excitedly.

Catching his cane midair, Bill strolled out of the literal blue with a charming smirk, jacket tails swaying behind him. He reached the edge of the platform, twirled on his heels and bowed. Then he rapped the bottom of his cane three times on the floor to draw the children’s attention and put a finger to his lips. The rowdy children immediately fell silent, eagerly staring at the tall, mysterious man in the yellow coat in wide eyed anticipation.

“So,” Bill said leisurely, leaning over his cane and resting his chin on the back of his hands. “Who’s ready to see some magic?”

The children answered with a loud applause and cheers.

Bill frowned and stuck a finger in his ear to get rid of some invisible earwax. “Sorry. Could you try that again? A little louder?”

More shouts of “Yes!” flooded the room, but the magician didn’t seem satisfied. He cupped a hand to his ear.

 _“I can’t hear you!”_  

The excited shouting turned into high pitched squeals. Some even stomped their feet on the floor. Pleased, Bill let his toothy salesman smile back on his face in a flash.

“Now _that’s_ what I like to hear!” he crowed, pointing his cane to the crowd to exaggerate his point. “Well, you’ve definitely come to the right place. My name is The Amazing William, but you little squirts can just call me Bill.”

He politely tipped his hat and a bouquet of giant sunflowers suddenly sprouted from within. The children gasped and gazed in wonder while he pulled them out, shaking a few petals loose before he flipped the hat back on his head. He then peered over the audience, squinting his uncovered eye.

“Now, which one of you lovely little gals is the lucky birthday girl?”

Beatrice immediately raised her hand, smiling as she waved it around in the air. “Me! Me, sir!”

Bill’s attention turned straight at her, his demonic eye opening wide in pre-rehearsed surprise. “Ooh, _sir_!” he giggled. “I already like you!”

He hopped off the makeshift stage without even stumbling once. A few more petals fluttered to the floor. The air that Bill gave off was surprisingly gentleman-like while he bent himself forward to look Beatrice at equal height. Sara and Hannah tried to hide their girlish giggling to keep their friend's spirits up. 

“And what’s your name, sweetie?”

For a minute, Beatrice forgot about Bill’s demonic nature and fell for his theatrical charms. His human demeanor strangely reminded her of Willy Wonka: wild, whimsical and mysterious. And with a grandiose outfit equaling a commanding personality that could silence even a crowd of noisy eight year olds, she wasn’t far off from the comparison.

She was about to reply, before Bill put a finger to her lips.

“No, no, no. Wait, don’t tell me…” He squinted, putting the tips of his fingers to his right temple and concentrated. “Beet? No, wait, that a vegetable. Tricia?” He snapped his fingers, grasping the word (Beatrice flinched). “No, no…it’s on the tip of my tongue…” Suddenly, a small square of white paper unexpectedly almost few out of Bill's mouth and caught him by surprise. He opened it and squinted at the melted handwriting. “Beatrice? Ha! I knew it! I _knew_ it!”

The girl giggled shyly as she took the flowers from Bill’s hands and blushed behind them. She could tell Bill got a kick of seeing her uncomfortable in front of a crowd.

“Well, then, Beatrice,” Bill said smoothly. “Since you’re already dressed for the part, how would you like to come help me start the show?”

Beatrice nodded excitedly, tossing the flowers into Sara’s lap and gingerly took Bill by the hand. She was a little nervous getting up in front of an audience full of her friends and peers, but a gentle promising squeeze from the demon reassured her otherwise. He told the children to make her feel welcome with a nice encouraging ovation and thanked her for her participation.

“Now, what do you think we should we kick things off with?”

“Um…I…I don’t know…” Beatrice mumbled.

Bill laughed. “You don’t _know_? But this is _your_ party! Surely, you must have planned for this!”

Beatrice tried to ignore the snickering from the guests and shuffled her feet. “Well, there’s a lot of tricks…”

“Very true,” Bill mused. “Tell you what - how’s about before you cut the cake, you can cut the cards?”

With a flick of the wrist, a pack of playing cards materialized in Bill’s right hand, not a single one ever falling out of place from the deck. The back of the cards were decorated with two large black and white triangles placed vertically opposite of each other. He shuffled them and handed the deck to his little assistant, who cut it into three piles, re-stacked them and gave it back to him. Then, he fanned them out to her.  

“Pick a card. Any card!”

Beatrice did so, sliding out the Ace of Spades, which bore an almost human-like blue eye in the center of the picture. It winked at her.

Holding back a scream, she quickly shoved it back into the deck. Bill shuffled again and pulled out a card from the top – the Queen of Hearts.

“Is this your card?”

Beatrice shook her head. Bill frowned, and pulled out another card – the Eight of Clubs. Again, wrong card.

“Hmm… odd. This usually works. Maybe I better take a closer look…” Bill began to lift up his eyepatch before a piece of folded cardstock fell into his hand. He unfolded it, and sure enough, there was the Ace of Spades. “Well, what do you know - third time’s the charm!”

The audience clapped, except for Laura May, who looked unimpressed when she saw the magician deal out the similar trick to another few lucky children, all of whom were equally surprised as Beatrice when Bill pulled out cards from different areas of his body or out of the air. Obviously, the magician had duplicate cards hiding on his person. Though that theory was put to rest when one instance saw a girl actually _coughing up_ her card which had been somehow folded up into an origami frog, with an added (and obvious) ‘frog in your throat’ joke from Bill for good measure. 

After a welcoming applause and everyone back in their seats, Bill eventually moved on from cards to colored scarves. He pulled a simple move by turning a blue scarf into a red scarf, and then mixing them together into a single purple one. When he was about to reveal his next trick, he suddenly winced and clutched at his stomach.

“Uh oh, I don’t feel so good. I think I gonna-”

There was a gagging sound from behind the hand over his mouth and Bill’s body heaved forward. Then, to everyone’s relief, a line of tied multi-colored scarves suddenly poured out of his mouth, drawing a few amused disgusted laughs from the crowd.

Bill grimaced, pulling out the last bit of cloth from his mouth. “That candy lied to me! This doesn’t even _taste_ like a rainbow! Here, girls, you must be fashionable. Make some use out of this…”

He went back to where Beatrice sat and teasingly draped the rainbow scarf around the three girls’ necks. Her friends squealed with laughter (and from being a little grossed out), trying to pry away the article, only to find that the silk was completely dry.

“Okay, that was pretty cool,” Sara noted. “But still, gross!”

“How did he do that?” Hannah asked, passing the scarf back so that the other children behind them could get a feel.

“Magic, duh!” Beatrice whispered.

And on Bill went, joking and dazzling the children with acts involving disappearing and reappearing coins and ring puzzles. There even a juggling act which made all the balls (painted to look like relatively realistic eyeballs) become one large foam eyeball Frisbee after he squashed them together and flung it across the room. Jimmy managed to catch it with just the tip of his finger. Bill allowed the boy to keep it as a little souvenir.

When the ‘parlor tricks’ were out of the way, Bill turned to larger game.

He first made the feat of turning his cane into a six foot long yellow Burmese python with just a simple quick tap on the ground, to the utmost astonishment of the audience as they saw the instrument become limp and coiled at his feet with a hiss. He introduced the snake as Cleopatra, draped her around his neck like a living scarf and paraded through the aisles to let everyone carefully touch the beautiful reptile. When he passed by Lucy, the snake raised her head off of the man’s arm and hissed loudly. The girl in the rose dress immediately screamed and started shuffling her way down her row of chairs in fear of being bitten. 

“Now, now, don’t be greedy, Cleo,” Bill tutted, stroking the snake’s head with a finger to silence her. “I just fed you this morning!”

The crowd awkwardly laughed, though a few children distanced themselves from Bill and the snake just to be safe. Cleo coiled around his hand and flicked her black tongue against his lips in what appeared to be a kiss. 

When he passed by the final row, Cleo didn’t hiss when she spotted Laura May in the far right corner. Instead, the snake merely snuggled around Bill’s warm neck, looping herself to look like a scaly noose. In response, Bill undid the python’s grip by simply stroking her again and Cleo shivered. He took her by the tail and in a frightening feat, whipped her down to the ground.

The transformation was instantaneous. The animal straightened out, curved her head, and yellow white scales melted back to polished black wood within less than ten seconds. He swung it in the air for good measure while sauntering back to the stage during the round of standing ovation.

The following trick involved him taking three eggs from his coat pockets and put them into his hat. He covered it with a scarf, and flipped it over on a table. He patted the top and upon lifting the hat, three pigeons flew up into the wooden rafters in a flurry of feathers and loud cooing. One sat on the head of a rather stocky boy with curly red hair named Felix, whom Beatrice recognized as one of the paper hornet boys, before it flew up to join its friends. A slimy egg rolled off onto the boy’s lap, though thankfully not breaking it. Bill collected the egg from Felix after asking him to come on stage, shining it with a black cloth and than handing it back to Felix.

"Now, on the count of three, I want you to throw the egg on the table as hard as you can!"

Felix nodded and on cue he threw the egg so hard that when it hit, there was a large plume of smoke that blinded everyone in the room. A minute or two later, it dissipated and Bill's voice was very low.

"Uh, kid, I think you got a little something on your shirt."

Felix coughed and looked down at his chest, only to freeze. On top of the icon of his Spider-Man hoodie was a dark brown and red striped tarantula almost the size of a coffee mug. Felix's face went white as a sheet, and he was about to scream (along with the rest of the children) before Bill quickly shushed him. 

"Don't scream," he said firmly. "Alex tends to get antsy when he hears loud noises. He might bite you."

Felix looked like he was about to pass out from holding his breath to avoid screaming. "Is he...poisonous?" 

Bill scratched his head. "I don't really remember...There's at least 800 species of tarantula after all, and there's  _so many_ that are poisonous. Best to not move while I find his box."

Poor Felix had to endure being a human statue as best as he could while Bill rummaged around the stage. He stared straight at the tarantula, who was currently twitching its front legs on his chest every time he took a short panicked breath. The kids all did their best to stay calm to avoid the creature from leaping off of his chest and attacking him, or even worse, leaping into the audience. Even Beatrice was a little worried in the midst of her delight of scaring one of her classmates. If this tarantula was poisonous, even she was in danger. 

"How much longer?" Felix hissed, already starting to feel sweat bead on his brow from being so nervous.

"Got it!" Bill came around with two medium sized plastic containers with air holes in both hands. "Sneaky little guy must have broken out again. No doubt with help of his sister, Ariel. They always enjoy the spotlight-" 

_"Sister?"_

He slowly turned his back to the audience and Sara leaped out of her seat and pointed.

 _"It's in your hood!"_ she screamed.

Felix didn't have time to process Sara's warning when he could feel something crawling up the back of his neck. Panic flooded his brain and proceeded to scream and flail around, sending Alex scuttling over his body and joined Ariel, who was now crawling her way through Felix's hair. Beatrice was about to leap out of her chair and run to get the adults before Bill put two fingers in his mouth and whistled so loud that everyone stopped screaming to cover their ears.

The tarantulas immediately stopped their erratic movements, just as one was about to bite Felix's chin, and turned to look at Bill curiously. The magician said nothing but his eye burned dangerously as he snapped his fingers. There was a twitch and the tarantulas fell to the floor, stone dead. Felix stumbled away from the now dead spiders as Bill casually picked them up and shook them. They didn't move, and then Bill gave their abdomens a squeeze and they let out a deflated rubbery squeak.

"All part of the show, folks!" He said smoothly. "You know I would never, _ever_ endanger a helping hand on my stage!" He winked (or blinked? It was hard to tell because of his eyepatch) at Beatrice, who was now resettling into her seat carefully. Hannah seemed to be level headed about the whole act (mostly because her brother had a pet tarantula named Willis at home) and was left to tend to her friends' post paranoia. 

After some more reassurance (and an exasperated eye roll), Felix was slowly applauded off the stage, but not before Bill pressed one of the rubber spiders into his hands.

"How about a little souvenir?" Bill give a wide reassuring smile while he lowered his voice. "Oh and for the record, I just remembered that the Red Kneed Tarantula is harmless. But they just _love_ to eat _hornets_..."

Felix's eyes almost bulged out of his sockets when he pieced together what Bill meant. He dropped the spider on the stage and ran back into his seat, pulling the hoodie over his head and pulling it as tight as he could to avoid being picked again.

Bill straightened his bowtie. "Alright, after all that excitement, why don't we try something a little more _cuddlier_? Not to say that tarantulas are not, but that's more of a personal preference..."

Bill placed his hat back on the table open side up after showing the inside to the audience as proof that he had nothing to hide. He reached in, and to everyone’s surprise, his whole arm up to his shoulder went inside. Something inside the hat growled, making Beatrice’s hair stand on end. Hannah immediately gave notice and squeezed her friend’s hand tightly for reassurance.

Then Bill screamed, his face twisting in agony as he tried to jerk his hand out of the hat but couldn’t. The children screamed along with him, unsure what was wrong as the magician struggled to get his hand back in one piece, but failing as it was being devoured from the inside...

Then the pain in his voice slowly died and he proceeded to chuckle, successfully pulling out a tiny live white rabbit from out of his hat. The whole room breathed a sigh of relief, once Bill produced a small carrot out of his breast pocket and fed it to the animal.

“Sorry, folks,” he apologized. “Presto does tend to get cranky if I don’t give him his afternoon snack.”

"I'd hate to see him cranky without dinner," Jimmy murmured, who had been quietly sitting the row behind Beatrice all this time. 

"I'm gonna pass out if he pulls something like that again," Sara groaned, watching Bill place the rabbit inside its cage during another uncomfortable applause. 

"I'm starting to think that your mom ordered a magician for adults by accident, Bee," Hannah added. "He's scary..."

"He's not scary!" Beatrice protested. "Well, maybe a little bit, but it's just part of his act! He's actually-"

“Okay, I think I can say we've had enough animal cruelty for one day. So, it's time for the really good stuff!" Bill eagerly clapped and rubbed his hands. "So, for this next trick, I’m going to need a volunteer.”

To prove her friends wrong, Beatrice’s hand shot up, but Bill ignored her, much to her dismay. Instead, he peered over the crowd, squinting and stroking his chin in mock thought.

“Now, let’s see… Eenie, meanie, miney… _you!_ "

He pointed to the last row and everyone turned to stare at Laura May, who in turn looked as surprised as everyone else. She had been so disinterested in the last act that she was staring at the clock to count how much longer she would have to endure this torture. She hesitated, pointing to herself, as if to make sure the magician hadn’t made a mistake and pointed to one of the kids next to her.

 _“M-me?”_ she squeaked.

Bill didn’t even bat an eyelash at her. “Yes, you, princess! ‘Haven’t seen you up here yet.”

Laura May looked around, trying to avoid making eye contact with the strange magician but felt judged by all the tiny puzzled eyes fixed on her. “But I-”

“Come on up, little lady. Don’t. Be. Shy!”

Bill crooked a finger towards him and Laura May unexpectedly found herself walking towards the brightly costumed man without even thinking of stopping. It was like her legs had a mind of their own. When she stood onstage in front of her slow clapping peers, Bill firmly patted her shoulder.

“There we go! Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Must have given your legs a good stretch!”

The blonde girl timidly shook her head, still puzzled (and yet, secretly happy) that Bill had picked her over the guest of honor.

“And, what’s your name, doll?”

“L-Laura May.”

He whistled. “Wow, what a name! Though, I could have sworn it was Goldilocks from all that hair…”

Laura May blushed, not sure if it was from flattery or from being embarrassed while the magician teasingly played with her pigtails and the crowd snickered with him.

“So,” Bill continued, after letting go and placing his hands on his hips upon leaning closer to speak with his newest assistant. “I noticed that you haven’t been participating in the crowd. What’s the matter? You got stage fright?”

“No!” Laura May felt a little bit hot as she spoke. She cleared her throat. “No. It’s… just I don’t believe in magic, that’s all.”

A few kids started to quietly grumble to themselves. Of course. She always had to open her big mouth and spoil the moment. That was just the way… _her_ way. At least she wasn’t stomping her feet or crying on the spot… yet.

Sara and Hannah both nudged their friend, concerned that this was going to be another birthday disaster waiting to happen. To their surprise, Beatrice didn’t seem to mind and shushed them. She just thought Bill wanted everyone to share some time with him with his acts to make them all feel welcome in his show.

Bill didn’t seem to be the least offended by his volunteer’s skeptical views. He merely raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why is that, exactly?”

Laura May proudly crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks. “It’s just silly. You can totally tell that it’s fake. Unlike, _some people_ …” She made a quick side glance in Beatrice’s direction. “I don’t get fooled easily.”

Bill pressed his fingers together and hummed. “Well, we’ll just see about _that_ , shall we?”

He went offstage to grab a spare chair and placed it center stage. He patted it, urging Laura May to take a seat. She was getting more into the pretty assistant role by the second - fixing her hair and flipping it over her shoulders, and daintily flattening her skirt as she sat down.

“Do you happen to know what hypnosis is?” Bill asked, leaning on the chair over the girl’s shoulder quite lazily.

“Uh, _duh_ ,” Laura May snorted. “It’s when a person sees a swinging watch and they fall asleep. Then, they can be told to do anything without even thinking about it, like making chicken noises and stuff.”

The demon chuckled. “You certainly hit the nail on the head there! Though, I don’t use watches in my acts. They’re pretty cliché, if you ask me. You’re just going to be listening to me talk the whole time. It’s all completely safe, of course.” He put a hand over his heart, while he angled the other in a Boy Scout salute. “And I promise there will be no funny animal noises. I’m a professional, after all!”

A few children moaned, disappointed that they wouldn’t be able to see Laura May strut around stage like a chicken or a monkey. Beatrice was one of them. What _was_ Bill planning to do with this? Surely, he couldn’t do very much scaring her if she didn’t know what was going on."

“So, all you need to do is just sit comfortably like you’re doing now and to trust me.” Bill kneeled down on one knee and gently held out his hand to Laura May. “Do you trust me, doll?”

The blonde girl mulled it over. There was no way she could get hypnotized. She tried it herself once as a dare at a sleepover. According to her friends, it didn’t appeared to have worked, so she concluded that she could just fake it and get it over with. Not to mention she could generate a big reaction from the crowd and make Beatrice jealous that the magician had turned down the guest of honor for her for this big act. This would be easy. She could do this in her sleep.

She flashed a phony innocent smile back at the man. “Sure, I do!”

She took Bill’s hand and firmly shook it. It was warm, sensing a similar sensation gradually snaking around her hand up to her wrist. It was when she decided to let go, she discovered that she couldn’t.

Her fingers were frozen in place.

“Hmm…that’s quite a handshake you got there!” Bill noted. “I’m impressed!”

Laura May looked at the magician, her prideful smile immediately faltering. She could have sworn that she saw his eye turn yellow for a second...

“Guess you’re a bit nervous, huh?” He patted the back of her frozen hand with his free one. “Don’t worry about it. How about you take a few deep breaths to calm down and clear your mind of any bad thoughts? I’m sure that’ll do the trick.”

Despite the growing panic inside her head, Laura May oddly complied, trying to reassure herself that if she did what she was told, his grip (or was it her grip?) would loosen. This was just probably part of the act. No doubt the guy had put some kind of glue on his hand when he went offstage for that chair. That didn’t mean that her mind still squirmed around, encouraging her to sue the pants off this guy once the show was over.

_Let go! Let go of me, you freak!_

“You can squeeze my hand hard, if you find that helps. I don’t really mind. Just let yourself relax and let go of all that tension…”

“But, I-I-” Laura May protested, but Bill cut her off with a gentle shush. She felt her tongue glue to the roof of her mouth, unable to speak another word.

“Now, now. No talking. _Relax_. Ignore everything else and just _look at me_.”

There was something oozing in Bill’s voice that made Laura May turn to look at the man in the eye. It still glowed, but every so often, its yellow hue pulsed into sapphire. She believed that everything around them had turned fuzzy and gray for a second when she blinked. His abnormally smooth voice (if you would call his usually nasal tone _smooth_ ) was starting to gently echo, noticing a lovely tingling feeling in her head. Her shoulders slowly slackened, and the sudden heaviness in her body made her sink against her chair.

“Now, doesn’t that feel nice?”

Laura May hummed in response, nodding slowly. It actually did feel kind of nice, like the afterglow of a massage. Nice, but still scary. Her loose muscles didn’t want her to move, aside from occasionally blinking, twitching her fingers or gently shuffling around to get herself more comfortable. Why would she need to move? She wasn’t paralyzed or anything, but the sensation was somewhat alien to her.

She blinked again, strange lights dancing behind her eyes before she opened them again and she saw grey all around her. It was like all the color had been sucked from the whole room…except for the man’s eye. There were even swirls of black and white pooling off the walls now, like gentle ripples on a still lake…

“You’re doing great, doll! You just keep letting that nice feeling flow through you and I’ll take care of the rest…”

Bill’s grip tightened, or at least that’s what Laura May tried to feel, but her head was slowly dipping forward now, desperately trying to keep herself awake. Her flickering eyelids were feeling more like lead weights every time she blinked.

“Aw, are your little peepers getting heavy?” Bill cooed. “That’s natural. Just try to hold on as long as you can for me!”

It was difficult meeting to the magician’s demands, but Laura May obeyed and willed herself to stay awake. It was getting hard to focus on anything except on Bill, his voice and his odd glowing eye. How was he even doing that? A trick of the…of the…the…

What was the word? That _word_ … It was on the tip of her tongue…

“You also might start to realize that it’s getting a bit hard to think. That’s okay. You’re feeling so good that your mind is shutting off, like a dimmer on a light switch. Why don’t we just turn that switch all the way _down_ , shall we? Just imagine as I count backwards…”

“Five.” **_Down, down, down…_**

_That…that…word…_

“Four.” ** _No more thoughts…_**

_What’s he…doing…? No…I…_

“Three…” ** _Let go of your mind…_**

_I don’t get it…What…am I…?_

“Two…” ** _Let me in, doll…_**

_I…I…?_

“One.” **_LET ME IN._**

Laura May gently swayed in her seat, her mind suddenly feeling pleasantly light and fluffy as a cloud. No more silly voices in her head. Eyes flickering between different layers of consciousness. Her jaw hanging slightly open.

Bill’s voice was almost like a gentle whisper in her ear. “Close your eyes...”

On command, Laura May’s eyelids drooped shut, oddly relieved that she didn’t have to fight back anymore. She felt a small tug somewhere, but she couldn’t figure out where. She was just so _tired_ …

“Atta girl. And now, you can just…” Bill raised his free hand in the air and snapped his fingers. It was very loud and precise, despite him wearing gloves. “ _Sleep_.”

That last word made Laura May’s head drop like a stone, her chin now resting on her slowly rising and falling chest. The children ‘ooh’ed and ‘ah’ed at the sight while little gasps of excitement flew from their lips, ready to cheer Bill, but the demon put a finger to his lips as a signal to keep quiet.

“Go a little bit deeper for me, would you, sweetheart?” He snapped his fingers again. " _Sleep.._."

There was a pause and Laura May’s head tilted to the side.

“As you can see, ladies and gents, she’s out like a light,” Bill explained to the audience. “But, she’s still got a mean grip on her. She hasn’t let go of my hand this entire time!” He smiled, playfully tugging at the little girl’s hand, which was still curled around his own. “I think we better fix that, or else we’re going to be stuck here all day.” He turned back to Laura May. “Doll, in a moment, I’m going to count down from five to one. On one, you’ll let go and let your mind go completely blank into the deepest sleep you ever thought possible.”

Only Beatrice seemed to notice the demon’s eye slowly turn red while he counted down. When he hit one, he pulled back and Laura May’s hand let go and fell limp at her side. Bill curled his hand towards him like a claw and then whipped it high in the air with a twist of his wrist. He tipped his hat to the audience and bowed, allowing them to finally applaud.

What they didn’t see was his lips were curling into the most stretched out smile he could muster on a human body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Back at it with the long breaks and cliffhangers. Oy vay...
> 
> I was having some pacing problems with this chapter which, again, became longer than it should and became split into two...again. But boy, oh boy, I couldn't resist stretching out some of Bill's terms of 'fun' magic acts for the kiddies, now could I? 
> 
> Fun fact: I was a volunteer in a hypnosis show last year during Carnival Week in my last semester of college and it was so surreal, but a super fun experience! Obviously, there were a few exaggerations here and there, and I did a little further research on the subject online to get a better interpretation for the scene in the chapter. Still creepy though.
> 
> (The tarantula idea was lightly inspired from the unused Bill Cipher villain song: "It's Gonna Get Weird", which was originally going to be the cold opener for "Weirdmageddon Part 1" but was cut from the series for time, which I may have listened too many times to count while working on this chapter on and off.)
> 
> And there's a teeny GF Easter Egg for those who find it. Can you guess what? :D
> 
> Also, I might have made myself paranoid from researching pictures of species of tarantulas on the Internet because HOLY SHIT, I WILL NEVER TOUCH ONE WITH A TEN FOOT POLE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. SO MUCH NOPE. *Arachnophobia intensifies*


End file.
